The Rose
by Phoenix Wand
Summary: But he that dares not grasp the thorn, Should never crave the rose. When Watari makes a mistake and shows Tatsumi his feelings, he's brushed off. How is each side dealing with this? Largely Tatari, with sprinkles of Tsusoka. Rated M just in case.
1. Prologue

Title; The Rose

Rating; M (For language, and not suggested, it's freakin' there, you can't over look it, MxM—mostly in later chapters.)

Author's Notes; This honestly started out as, "Hey, Watari always wears his lab coat; I'd like to give him circumstances to wear something cool." And it went from there to adding Tatsumi, to having conflict, and now multi-parter. Or hopefully it will be, if I receive some nice reviews. (Wink wink nudge nugde hint hint.) And now that I've finished with that oh so, subtle subliminal messaging, apologies for not writing for a bit. I was having issues thinking of something that wouldn't be a one-shot, so I was waiting until I at least had ideas for the first two chapters of this story. I should be updating more, however, I did get a job (ironically, for those of you who read Luncheon,) as a waitress. -;; Not intended! So, it's not the kind of job where I can screw around and scribble in my notebook. So, here's hoping I don't get completely swamped with all this stuff. If I know people are reading, though, it makes me yell at myself. "Just sit down and type it out, damnit!"

* * *

_But he that dares not grasp the thorn,_

_Should never crave the rose._

Anne Brontë, "The Narrow Way"

I have screwed up. So majorly, so completely, I cannot believe that I am still able to string together conscious thoughts, cannot believe I have not been either mercifully or out of spite struck down by a bolt of lightening from either God or Emna Dai Oh.

I have screwed up before. Often enough that I know others have learned to make a joke out of it, simply blaming it on the mad scientist part of my brain, or my eccentricity. I would be lying if I said the word 'insanity' never came up when in reference to me. That is fine; in fact, it suits my agenda more than adequately. If they assume I will have some sort of catastrophe sooner or later, there is no shock when I do. Less anger.

But this is beyond anger screw up, beyond the threats of pay cuts and other such meaningless things. Yes, meaningless, because in comparison, it is.

But I should start at the beginning, shouldn't I? You don't know what happened. But you aren't really there, so how could you? Further proof of my insanity; I'm talking to someone who isn't there. Isn't hearing voices the first sign? Haven't had that yet…. Very good, Yutaka, at least you're not that far gone.

------

"Watari!"

Jump, crash. How was it possible for any one person to be so loud? Collecting the now shattered beaker set (Tatsumi was going to _kill _me when I tried to explain this one,) I was faced with a very exhuberant Tsuzuki.

When he'd finished his paper work, or more common, when he'd managed to escape the strangling clutches of both Bon and Tatsumi, he would come down here to see what I was doing, and, usually, cause a few explosions.

And everyone thought just I was responsible. Ha. May I point out that Tsuzuki lived before there were Chemistry courses and he has a tendency to fiddle with things?

"Hey, Tsuzuki," I mumbled, glancing over the damage. Two beakers. All in all, not bad. I was holding one, elbowed the other, but what can you expect, when you suddenly hear someone scream your name, and a door slam? It was silent before Tsuzuki came in.

He threw himself (and even that description was gentler than the motion itself,) onto one of the lab stools, and fidgeted, glancing at his watch. He had been known to hang around my lab, for the simple reason that it's on the opposite side of the building from Tatsumi and Hisoka.

Into the trash with a clang, I tossed the old materials, and went back to the notes for the afternoon, for once, _not_ a sex-change potion. Though it is my goal, I do have other interests, and that day, it was perfecting the body switching potion that, uhm, was accidentally discovered a few Valentine's Days ago.

Though completely awry from the original plan, it wasn't a bad idea in theory, right? "Tsuzuki." I had to ask, as he was, by now, staring at the face of his watch avidly, "Are you waiting for something, or is there a very intriguing trait to your watch?"

It became apparent, very much so, that he had been waiting for me to ask. "After work, Hisoka's agreed to let me take him to dinner." Tsuzuki's smile couldn't have been wider, and he had begun bouncing around on the chair in an alarming fashion. Really, it was shocking it hadn't fallen over. "Okay, so he gets to pick the place, and I have to pay, but it was the only way I could get him to say yes."

"Really? Maybe there's hope for Bon yet." Hisoka had allowed himself to be drawn out, but only by Tsuzuki. He'd become everything to that kid, though damned if either one would admit it.

"What're you doing tonight, then?" Tsuzuki smiled, as if he knew. "Working late?" Why did he have such a knowing look in his eyes?

"I dunno," I replied, slowly. I honestly didn't. "I don't work late that often, anyway." I didn't! I mean, the futon in the back was used only when I lost track of time, or had to record something at odd hours of the night.

Tsuzuki made a little noise that sounded entirely too amused. "You don't? What time did you get home last night?"

I needed to think for a moment. "Um, ten-ish?"

"And where did you come home from?"

I wanted very badly to say some place that sounded very cool, doing something exciting. "Work."

"And the night before that?" Damn that look.

"Slept here."

If it was anyone other than Tsuzuki, I would have just lied. But it was impossible to lie to him. It was as if he knew you were lying, and rather than point it out, he would simply _look _at you. I had stopped trying long ago; when he wanted, Tsuzuki could be worse than Bon, empathy and all.

I sighed. There was no getting any work done when he had a point to prove, and it would be easier to just let him get it out. "All right, I get it."

Tsuzuki shifted in his seat, but rested his head on his arms amicably enough, as if he were not counting down the painfully slow seconds until six o'clock. I knew he was. "You just wouldn't want to spend all your time here," he pointed out, in a wheedling way. "After all, you could end up like Tatsumi." He grinned, obviously joking, but it was true.

Tatsumi worked later than everyone else, and arrived here before everyone else. I would have questioned whether he went home at all, except he was always in a neatly pressed suit, his hair brushed, completely tame, and not even one speck of dirt under his nails.

For a long time, this idea had interested me. For as long as I could remember, anyway, even near when I first came to Meifu. I had started to wonder what Tatsumi would look like with his hair mussed. Maybe not always in his completely calm exterior, or in some other emotion than anger. Were there times when he wasn't in a suit? These thoughts were enough to drive one to the brink of sanity, though it was debatable if I had gone far past said brink.

I must've tuned out for a little then, because when I shook myself, Tsuzuki was looking at me curiously. "Sorry," I said, smiled. "Just thinking." I didn't have to bother with coming up with a better excuse than that, though I wasn't sure what I could say (probably just spout off something technical terms and confuse him.) No, Tsuzuki was glancing down at his watch again, waiting for the danger of paperwork to pass and to be able to spend some quality time with Bon.

Considering there was only two minutes left to the scheduled work day, I simply turned back to collecting my notes and trying to remember where exactly I'd put my pen. I always seemed to lose them, and then they end up somewhere strange, like on my filing cabinet, or under the computer desk. Sometimes, it was as if 003 was playing head games with me (wouldn't put it past her, tricky little bird….)

"See you, Watari!"

Another crash, and I winced as the chair toppled over, leaving the metal frame ringing. Tsuzuki made as much noise exiting as he did entering, but I was used to it. My mind was elsewhere, anyway. It was time when most would be leaving, and I had thought to stay. Quieter, less distractions, and once I had started something, I was usually too wrapped up to end just at six.

Tonight, though, I didn't really feel like staying. The lab would be quiet, but it would also be cold. It would be lonely.

"003, what would you say to heading home a bit early?" I grinned, watching as the owl opened one eye from her roost up by the window. She closed it again, ruffled her feathers, and finally flew down to rest on my shoulder. "Sorry, did I interrupt the beauty sleep?"

Peep. Click. She burrowed deeper against my collar.

"Good. Then let's go home." I had no idea why everyone made such a big thing out of talking with her. After all, they talked to Terazuma, didn't they?

------

I liked my apartment. There was no reason not to like it; it was colored well, mostly shades of greens and beige, and the furniture might not have been designer, but it was a good accomplishment that it matched, and it was _comfy._ After a long day, or even on a lazy Sunday, where nothing was accomplished, that furniture was put to good use.

I wasn't there much, though, only on weekends, since I usually stayed late at work, and even then, I never did much. It wasn't really lived in, the way some flats are. The bedroom, where I stood, was probably the most inhabited. I did, after all, sleep there. It showed, as I had a bed rather than a futon, and had indulged in a nice mirror over my dresser.

I was looking at myself in it in a critical way. "I do things outside the office." I glanced up at 003, who had taken to resting at the top of the mirror. She didn't reply. Not a good sign. "I do! We went out to that café with Tsuzuki and Bon."

Hoot.

"Oh." Right. That had been a few weeks ago. I sighed. Maybe I would do something spontaneous. Not that I didn't usually, but my spontaneity was confined to the office, and more specifically, drugging the coffee pot, causing explosions, and annoying Tatsumi (though the first two seemed to fall into the latter category, regardless.)

My first thoughts had been, well, what had I done when I was alive? Easy; I had stayed late in the office, or been working towards my doctorate. Neither was helping my case. Another sigh. Straining my memory (this had been a good thirty nine (1) years ago, give or take,) there had been times when a couple of friends and I would go out to a club.

I grinned. I hadn't been to one in literally an age. It sounded like fun.

------

City sights were the same, and yet different. Save for changes in styles, it very well could have been the same people that had been dancing when I would go out. However, the amount of bars fueled for my preferences (2) had decreased.

They weren't hard to find, but there certainly were less of them. The music was still just as fast paced; the entire point of finding a one night fling had not deteriorated. It wasn't what I was there for, though.

And I wasn't sure _why_ I had dressed up, then. Using a couple of clips Tsuzuki had given me as a Christmas present a few years back ("They looked like you would like them. Red, with the tiny diamonds!") I had twisted up my hair. I had always worn it long, first out of choice, then habit. Now, I just can't imagine it as anything else. Jeans, a rarity for me, and a dark red and gold tee shirt were also part of the new look. Gold bands around my wrists, and I felt good about how I looked.

Sitting at the bar with an apple cinnamon martini (3), I was enjoying the looks. I was enjoying the vodka a little too much, but it was easy to lose track when the music was pounding like it was and every few minutes you would catch an appreciative eye on you.

While I was not a particularly easy drunk, neither was I Tsuzuki. When I left the club, only around eleven or so as I did have work, I was a little off kilter. Vodka will do that to you. I was walking fine, thinking (semi) clearly, and certainly not a threat to myself or others.

I thought.

I decided to walk home, if only because I do like to walk home, when the night was clear like it was then, and it was warm out. I regretted that decision, because by walk home, I meant walking through a Torii Gate (4) and through Meifu, to my apartment. Which meant walking past the Ministry, and by then, it was almost midnight.

And guess who was deciding to just clock out?

"Watari-san?"

Yup. Him. "Oh, Tatsumi-san." I smiled, and turned to face the man walking towards me. I doubted he was coming towards me, so much as the street outside so that he could head home. "Good evening."

I could literally see the eyebrow twitch when he took in my attire, and when he looked up, his expression seemed to say without words, 'What the hell are you wearing?' He wouldn't ever phrase it like that, though. "May I ask what you're doing out so late?"

"Walking?" Damn, not supposed to come out as a question! I flashed a grin.

"Dressed like that?" Tatsumi crossed his arms, looking at me with The Look. The Look he gives when you were either doing something incredibly stupid, or had messed up and he was waiting for you to trap yourself.

I laughed, then threw my arms out, as if to say, 'Guess!' I would have loved to see Tatsumi try to guess where I was, but thankfully, for my own health, he would have killed me with that scary butcher knife of his, I added, "You didn't ask where I was before I was walking."

Something flickered in his eyes, probably annoyance, but he adjusted his glasses and it was gone. "Ah, of course not." For a moment, I thought he might guess, and he looked half torn between curiosity and love of privacy, but then it was gone. And he was Tatsumi; self-contained, and professional. "Well. I was just about to retur-"

"You wanna go out for coffee?" Why had I asked that? Might as well ask God as me, 'cause I didn't know. It was already out, a thought I would have normally kept to myself, but flew from my lips carried by vodka loosened tongue.

He was going to refuse. Tatsumi would give me that ice cold look that made me feel like an idiot seven times over, and simply say 'No, thank you, Watari-san' enunciating the honorific on my name. Saw it coming a mile away. "That sounds good."

…That wasn't being shot down. Why did I feel like a high school kid asking someone out for the first time?

------

Coffee must have been made by some god. Not by humans, because it was one of the best things on earth. I hummed happily to myself, sipping the hot brew, laden with cream and cinnamon. When I opened my eyes, I grinned guiltily, and settled for quietly drinking the heated concoction.

Tatsumi had been watching me, looking frankly amused with my antics. I couldn't help it! This restaurant just happened to make the best cup of coffee around. "Enjoying yourself?"

He sounded a little sarcastic, and I merely settled for replying with, yes, yes, I was. I played with the cup in my hands for a minute, before asking the question that I couldn't keep to myself. "Ne…Tatsumi-san, why did you agree to come?"

He half froze for a moment before taking a slow sip of his drink. He looked so thoughtful, and I reminded myself not to smile. It was hard, when usually I only saw a frown on his face, seeing him contemplative…it was a treat. More than the coffee.

"It was a good offer." Tatsumi had finally spoken, and it was almost absently, as if trying to come up with a more definite reason. "I suppose I just didn't feel like turning in for the night yet." He exhaled softly, then glanced at me over the rim of his glasses. "Judging by the clips and arm bands, you didn't either?"

"You're never gonna let this go, are you?" I asked, somewhat bitterly, but not truly irritated. "If I told an uptight fuss bucket like you where I was, you'd die of shock."

"Watari-san, I'm already dead."

"That's entirely beside the point."

Tatsumi seemed to want a shot gun very badly just then, as he rolled his eyes. I seemed to make him do that a lot, not intentionally of course! It's just how I was.

"Fine, I went to a club," I muttered, and became very occupied with judging how much coffee my cup could hold and was holding. Hm, what was the equation for volume again?

"A club?" Tatsumi looked somewhat floored, and attempted to straighten his glasses. "Dare I ask why or with whom?" Yes, he could dare to ask. Neither reason was really all that explicit after all.

I shrugged. "Uh, because I was bored, Tsuzuki said I stayed in the office too much. And I went alone. Who would I have gone with?" Once it was out, I regretted it. That was a stupid question. You went to clubs with friends or significant others. If not, one was usually there for a one night stand.

"I don't presume to know all of that much about your personal life to assume whom you would accompany to a club." Tatsumi sipped his coffee again, and glanced at the clock on the wall. Past twelve thirty.

I laughed, covering it with a hand. Or attempting to, at least. "Don't worry, there's not enough of one for you to be missing anything. Anyway, am I keeping you up?" I'd already finished my drink, and he was close to being finished with his. It was about time to turn in.

He shrugged, finished his drink. As he put the cup back down, he said, somewhat bluntly, "Not anymore than I'm usually up, if you're worried about it." Tatsumi signaled to our waitress, subtly, and cast her a smile. A harassed looking girl, she indicated one moment, and headed back to the counter.

"Good. I'd hate to be responsible for you being any more irritable in the morning than you already are." I grinned at Tatsumi, to show I was joking, and reached for the wallet I'd tucked into my back pocket.

"Don't worry about it," he remarked, having already pulled out his credit card. When the waitress came over to drop off our tab and wish us a good evening, Tatsumi glanced over it. "It's not even worth splitting."

I caught a glance of the slip: 1,700¥ (5). "Thanks. I wouldn't have minded paying, though." Another glance at the clock said that it was fifteen to one, and we both stood and started over to the counter to pay the tab.

------

"Which way is your flat?"

"Down here."

I nodded. Mine was in the same general direction (if you took a couple of side streets,) so I walked with him. Tatsumi either didn't care or just assumed that I was heading towards my own home.

"This is me." Tatsumi pointed to a sterile looking apartment building, though it managed to give off a homey feel at the same time. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then, Watari-san." He gave me the slightest smile, adding, "And don't think this will excuse lateness on your part; I expect to see you on time."

Putting on a theatrically sad look (it was said that I never lose my energy, and I can't dispute it,) I replied, "Tatsumi-san, you wound me deeply! I'm always on time—when I'm being good and not spiking the coffee pot." I grinned, innocently, and hell if he believed it as he just rolled his eyes.

"You're going to wake up my neighbors, Watari-san," he informed me, stoically. "Please try to avoid doing such at this ungodly hour." He straightened his glasses again, perhaps to hide either humor or exasperation.

"Your poor neighbors," I said. "I think they'll live, though." I smiled, and pointedly waved up to the darkened windows. There was no twitch of curtains, or lights turning on suddenly. "Just tell them it's a crazy subordinate that you can't get rid of."

Tatsumi chuckled, a little, and cast a glance to the windows behind him. "It is, but then they'll want to know how crazy you are, and it would probably take a year to describe all your stupid antics."

"Aw, you do love me!" I didn't think, and wrapped my arms around him. "You know my antics!" I knew immediately that it had been a bad idea, and now I was very close to Tatsumi, our faces barely a hair's breadth away.

Tatsumi seemed to collect himself, as quickly as he could, but he did not step back. "I repeat, Watari-san, try to avoid waking every person within the surrounding ten meters."

I didn't reply. I did the stupidest thing I could have possibly done, and I have done _really_ stupid things before. I kissed him.

His lips were warm and soft, but there was no response from him. I wasn't sure what it was I wanted (or rather, it's harder to put into words exactly what I wanted from him,) but I should have expected it. Tatsumi didn't push me away, but he didn't respond, and when I broke off, I half-muttered an apology and took off. That had been possibly the worst idea I had ever had.

------

And now my position is this; I have work today, and it will be awkward. There will be avoidance, and when it finally comes to light, I'll hear it. The not interested speech, or the need for professionalism. Tatsumi doesn't feel that way about me, and I knew that. I _knew _that he only had feelings for Tsuzuki, and I did something this stupid anyway. His expression, though, afterwards? There was nothing other than shock, and certainly not anything to make me think that my advances would have been welcomed by him.

Looking back at the evening, even objectively, I could think of nothing other than his acceptance of coffee to make me think he intended anything other than the friendship he's always shown me. And now I don't think I even have that.

* * *

1 I count Watari at 24, and this year 2006. I think my math is correct….Feel free to say if it's not.

2 Gay bar. Couldn't slip it in subtly, sorry, and wanted to get the point across.

3 Are these main stream? I heard they taste good, though, alas. I know not—damn underage….

4 I _think_ there's a belief that they lead to the "other world." Am I wrong?

5 About fifteen dollars.

Author's notes; I hope you liked. I hate first person writing, it's difficult for me. - Please read and review, and I promise, every other chapter up until the epilogue, will not be in first person. I just wanted Watari-san to tell his side of the story. He's so hard to write, and I had trouble keeping him in line. xP He wanted me to go off on tangents. Bad Watari-sama!

So, please, again, review. I know a lot of people ask, but it really means a lot when you do. - On an unrelated note, I just saw the anime. Does anybody else hate Eric Stuart as Watari? I have nothing against Eric Stuart, but I kinda still think of him as, "Hey, that's the guy from Pokémon that gets his head eaten by a plant!" Yeah, maybe it's just me….


	2. Chapter I

Title; The Rose

Rating; M (For later chapters, language, and Watari-san's "flaming" personality.)

Disclaimer; I couldn't believe it, but I forgot to putonelast time! Gomen nasai! Anyway, if I owned this series, don't you think there would be a heck of a lot more Tatsumi x Watari moments? I only own my copies of the mangas (and animes.)

Author's Notes; Oh my gosh! I feel so loved. Thank you for the reviews, they made me smile, and I re-read them a couple of times over. They really made me want to keep writing, and certainly update more often. Just to say it again, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I'll respond to them at the ending author's notes.

I was debating a bit about whether I'd do Watari's bit first, or Tatsumi, and it was basically decided with, "They read Watari, now I'll write some Tatsumi stuff." And plus, I need practice with him. Silly fuss bucket is hard to write. xP Enjoy the latest installment. Next chapter? Tsuzuki and Hisoka get involved in our little drama.

* * *

_Nowhere can a secret keep  
always secret, dark and deep,  
half so well as in the past,  
buried deep, to last, to last._

_Keep it in your own dark heart,  
otherwise the rumors start._

_After many years have buried,  
secrets over which you worried,  
no confidant can then betray  
all the words you didn't say._

_Only you can than exhume  
secrets safe with the tomb  
of memory, of memory,  
within the tomb of memory._

-Dean Koontz, "The Book of Counted Sorrows"

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Even as Seiichiro Tatsumi thought that, he knew it sounded stupid. It was he who, while glaring fearsomely, warned others to be silent. He who looked for the peace that could only be found when the majority of his staff were out on missions, or else on a lunch break.

But this silence was odd, suppressing in its intensity, and unending, save for the gentle tick tock of the clock on his desk. Tatsumi knew well why this silence was bothering him, but to even think it would be admitting that he needed what brought the chaos into his office, and he couldn't do that.

He tapped his fountain pen in time with the clock.

Tatsumi prided himself on having a schedule, and right now, that clock mocked him. Its face, the hands that ticked slowly by, and more than anything, the fact that the time it showed was not wrong. It was exactly eight hours, seven minutes, and eleven seconds into the day. Twelve seconds. Thirteen.

He resisted the urge that was growing increasingly strong, to turn the small clock away from him. It was only with an effort that Tatsumi stopped tapping his pen. It was an annoying habit, really. As bad as drumming ones fingers.

And now it was twelve minutes past when the silence of this office should normally have been broken. Tatsumi loved his office; the hard oak desk, the leather bound chair, and the cleanly white washed walls made the place a sanctuary for him, more than anywhere else. He really did love it, but….

This was not productive. Sitting and thinking about why _he _had not come barging in uninvited to start ranting about to hell with the budget; they needed something that Tatsumi couldn't even pronounce. He would wave his arms, sigh, accept what little was given, and then ask Tatsumi what time he had gotten in last night? Had he gotten any sleep, and did he ever just step away from the paper work? Like, ever? And he would be bright, like sunlight, with an owl on his shoulder, and a wide grin constantly in place. Until Tatsumi told them that, no, they did _not _need a chromatograph…whatever that was.

Tatsumi sighed, and glared impressively down at the reports in front of him. Considering the annoyance behind his icy blue stare, it was shocking the reports did not spontaneously combust in a stunning display of pyrotechnics. The accounts for the Summons Department, of course, and they were in the red again, but for once, it wasn't what was making him scowl.

He had been in a bad mood when he had come in, when he had woken up today, and even when he went to bed last night. At the ungodly hour of after one in the morning. But he wasn't supposed to be thinking about that, because no good came of it. However, while telling himself such this morning, he had managed to lock himself out of his apartment by forgetting his keys as he left. And his shoes. Tatsumi thanked any gods he could think of for his teleporting gift.

The account sat before him, innocuous in their way, the numbers patiently waiting for him to look over them, using every tax exemption known to man. Tatsumi was the best at that, because he knew numbers. They were constantly the same, in the way nothing else was. He could always add up their expenses, and he could always get tax exemption on Tsuzuki's sweet tooth. These were facts of life.

And then there was Watari. Watari had no laws, often leading to the chaos that reigned in Meifu. His was a world in which anything went, and often things that defied the basic laws of nature. Rules of any kind simply did not apply to Watari.

Eight thirty and forty seven seconds. Tatsumi had gotten no work done. Every time he tried to concentrate, he would become sidetracked with images of amber eyes, flashes of red and gold, and the sounds bright laughter. His memory was betraying him.

And worst of all, memory of phantom lips on his, the taste of cheap cherry chapstick, and of slender arms wrapped around him. That he remembered only too clearly, the sense of shock, and his standing there, immobile. The uncomfortable heat swept through him, even the next day, remembering those lips on his. Tatsumi tried very, very hard to ignore it.

What he couldn't ignore was the expression on Watari's face afterwards. Embarrassment, surprise…hurt. Tatsumi had just stood there, watching as the man he knew to be so bright and full of light, watching as his eyes briefly showed exactly how much he had been hurt by his indifference, he had left. For a while, the Shadow Master had debated with himself. Not overly long, but after deciding, he headed inside.

He could not have followed Watari. He knew of nothing that he could say to make the man feel better, and he knew that anything he did say might make it worse. Tatsumi wasn't exactly "good" with people when they were emotional. Even to Tsuzuki, his words of stunning wisdom were usually along the lines of, "Pull yourself together," or, "Be a man."

And Tsuzuki…that brought up more questions than ever.

The paper work sat before him, mocking him with its blank pages. He would have to stay late (or, rather, later than usual,) to finish what he couldn't concentrate on now. Especially considering the expense requests his underlings had seen fit to submit…only half of which he could even draw connections to money with. Terazuma was asking to have Tsuzuki either locked in a cage or put in an asylum (the latter word he managed to misspell,)-- denied. Saya and Yuma were asking for money for clothes, and, to Tatsumi's annoyance, Hisoka to be sent on missions where they might "need his help." Denied.

Tatsumi stamped the latter twice, feeling a bit better about himself, and added a footnote to Terazuma about one, spell-checking ("if you're unsure, ask Kannuki-san, as I cannot decipher your meaning,") and two, staying one task. Which plotting to get rid of fellow coworkers did not fall under the category of.

Which left the budgets, and for the first time in a long time, Tatsumi found himself unable to think of a way around the property damage that ensued after another spat between Terazuma and Tsuzuki (for once not the library, but instead the main hall.)

Tsuzuki…he cared deeply for the purple eyed Shinigami, did he not? Had for years and years. But Tsuzuki had eyes only for Hisoka, and besides, hadn't Tatsumi been the one to leave him? He had left, watching the tears drip down that soft face, even as he was smiling, all the while telling himself he did it out of love. Did he have any claims to be allowed to care for the man?

After being so close to allowing Tsuzuki to kill himself, he shouldn't. He knew Tsuzuki had forgiven him, and even thanked him, and it was genuine, because Tsuzuki was genuine. But to watch Hisoka's face when he had dove into that lab…. He knew then, and maybe even before, that those two needed each other more than anyone in the world. And he knew it was time to step back, because he could no longer be the one to protect Tsuzuki from his shadows, where he always had before.

And this left him alone, scarily so, in those shadows, and then to have Watari suddenly come into the picture? In a different way than before, rather, because Watari had always been there. Bright and happy, he was the light of the office, even if that was sometimes a ruse. The smile showing everyone what they wanted-- no, needed to see from him. No one who was that untroubled worked as a Shinigami.

Tatsumi stood from his desk. He needed to walk, get out for a few minutes and concentrate on clearing his head. Thoughts like this were enough to undo him completely to the breakdown that had always threatened him from the darkest corners of his mind.

Even as he walked through the door, having already decided that the break room would be fine for a few minutes, Tatsumi saw Tsuzuki sitting on Hisoka's desk (or at least the edge of it, for fear of fist or book,) and talking animatedly, trying to draw the boy out. It didn't escape Tatsumi's notice that Hisoka was not yelling, and instead humoring his partner, whereas before he would have been chastised for not working, and probably ducking a fist.

He bid them a brief good morning, not noticing the way Hisoka's eyes lingered on his back for a moment too long before his partner's insistent wheedling made him roll his eyes and mutter, "I'm still listening. Idiot."

------

The break room must have been designed by the same fools who designed the cheap motel rooms. As ever Tatsumi had that impression when he walked towards the coffee maker in the back. The colors in the room clashed in the same sort of mismatched way, as if they had all been picked from a donations center, and the rug looked as if it had seen better…decades.

In an odd sort of way, though, it was comfortable, and certainly not enough to stop Tatsumi from pouring himself a mug of black coffee. He stared into the concoction for a few long minutes before he decided that safe was better than sorry and opened the cupboard once more in search of them.

Having learned long ago of Watari's trial an error experiments, he had decided that being turned into a strange animal or growing extra limbs would not do. He had sprung a few dollars for Ph strips, used on his coffee alone. Anything that registered above a nine or below a five had been tampered with.

Tatsumi had no great love of science, but you couldn't argue with convenience. When the coffee turned out to be an eight, Tatsumi hid the strips once more, and threw away the one that had been used. Yes, coffee would help him. Tatsumi would go into the office and concentrate now and get some work done.

The door opened.

Tatsumi knew he shouldn't have left the office. But he had, and now he was faced with a surprised looking Yutaka Watari.

The silence for a moment was awkward, the sort where both parties involved can't think even enough to say hello. Watari, however, was the first to break it. He continued inside, having stopped when he first entered, still in the doorway, with his hand against the knob.

His smile was wide, and, to Tatsumi's eyes, entirely false. There were times when the secretary couldn't tell that the man was faking his good humor, however, after years of working together, he had picked up a few things.

That, and Watari wasn't hiding it very well.

"Morning, Tatsumi…stop looking at me like that, I didn't touch the coffee." He moved with lithe grace, his wild hair in a half hearted braid, no longer falling around his face as it usually did.

The thought surprised Tatsumi when it occurred to him, absently, that the scientist looked better with it falling around his face, in his eyes, adding to the inane quality that he seemed to constantly personify. He _really_ didn't have enough coffee in him to be thinking that kind of thing about Watari.

Tatsumi believed he would need large amounts of sake before he should be thinking about Watari that way.

"I'm not looking at you in any way, Watari," Tatsumi said flatly, not realizing until after he spoke that Watari had frozen for a moment, back turned to him, when Tatsumi had spoken those words.

That hadn't been how he meant them…he thought.

Watari turned around, his hands cupped around a mug of cheap bancha. He took a sip, grimaced, and took another. "Just a joke, relax. Though I honestly haven't touched the coffee." The younger man shrugged, in a halfhearted sort of way. Upon closer inspection, he seemed tired, more subdued in a way that just didn't fit him.

"Hm." Tatsumi mumbled, without anything better to say. And the silence was back, strangely awkward considering that the silences that had fallen between them any time before this would have been after arguing over something stupid neither of them cared about (tempers ran high some days, and Watari had the worst,) or else it was quiet by choice, just thinking or not needing to speak.

Tatsumi had started to regret coming out of his office. Watari was ignoring last night, and so should he, but…he was fairly certain Watari wasn't staring stupidly at the work before him as he had been doing all morning. "I'm getting back to work," Tatsumi finally muttered. "I would suggest that you do the same, Watari-san."

He put his mug back down, the coffee still black and half full; Watari's eyes weren't on that. At the use of the honorific on his name, the suggestion of just getting back to work, (such a menial, Tatsumi thing, that he wouldn't mention the night before,) and the formal name merely told the scientist what he hadn't want to know. Nothing had changed; it never would. He needed to stop thinking this way.

He winced slightly, whether in embarrassment or at the rebuke, but it was only when Tatsumi had gotten back into his office and sat down that he considered Watari's reaction.

With a bit of guilt, the Shadow master realized that he had once more, unwittingly, said the wrong thing. Still, perhaps it was better that way. Even an angry Watari (rival to his own temper,) was better than this man who could barely meet his eyes.

It would end this, before something else did.

Tatsumi glanced at the papers before him in the office, as the numbers that passed before his eyes and out of his mind, even as he read them. He couldn't remember anything, as the next few moments merely encompassed the same memories he'd struggled to suppress only fifteen minutes before, and now, new ones. Even five minutes later, Tatsumi knew this day would drag on to the very last minute.

The small clock in front of him, chimed once, in a quiet sort of way. Nine thirty. Another eight and a half hour to go.

* * *

Authoress's Notes: I didn't have as much fun writing this chapter as I did the previous. The next one's gonna be more fun, yay conflict! With every character! Well, except Muraki…and Terazuma and Wakaba, and…. You know, it's got the four main characters. Enough ranting from me. I hope. I didn't have a lot of time to write this, but my schedule should be more open, so the next chapter should be coming out a lot faster. Thank you to the five people who reviewed; it was really the driving point for me to go home, and get on the computer and write, rather than just collapse and play Gameboy. Which, really, is a fun time for me.

Calliope Della Corte- Thank you! -points above- See? 'Nother chapter. I agree, Watari is great; I love that guy _so_ much. He's definitely my favorite character.

Eternalsailorsolarwind- Your review made me feel so good about myself. I know this chapter wasn't quite the dénouement some might have been hoping for, but I just needed to get out Tatsumi's feelings, and I wanted to give Hisoka a full chapter to call the two of them idiots, so, yeah…. No, I didn't spike the coffee (Tatsumi caught me with those Ph strips of his. Damn you, Tatsumi!) I know, Eric Stuart, nice guy. Not my Watari-san. Watari's got an inaccurate Kansai accent, darnit! I loved Toshihiko, he was amazing.

ShadowMoonlight- Thanks for the review. I hope you did wait, and I hope you read and review again (bad subliminal messaging.)

Shadowlark71- Tatari! -jumps around- Yay! Tatari! -cough- Uhm, I mean, uh, something mature sounding…. If anyone liked Eric Stuart as Watari, they are not Watari fans. Or not true ones, anyway. I started freaking out when I heard it. "ZOMG, it's that guy from Pokémon who gets eaten by a plant!" Yesh, I kept writing. Actually, tonight I'm starting on the next chapter. I'll give you a clue who's point of view it's through…he's tiny with misplaced aggression. -wink-

Evilfrogger86- I loved dressing Watari like that. I was like, "Hm, he'd look so freakin' awesome like that; Tatsumi would just have the funniest reaction. Ha! I'm writing it!" …I have issues. Thanks, I should be updating more and more. Darn you work and old people! Being a server is hard. And to answer your question, it's largely Tatari, but there's so much Tsusoka, you can't ignore. It's not even subtle. There will be a bunch of it next chapter; it's one of my favorite pairings, because Hisoka and Tsuzuki are such cute characters (both physically and personality wise.)

Thanks for the reviews. As always, I remain humbly yours. --Phoenix.


	3. Chapter II

Title; The Rose

Rating; Still M (again, still for later chapters. Though Hisoka is violent in this one...)

Disclaimer; Ah, yes, see it? Recognize it? Not mine; rub it in my face, why don't you. And Matsushita-sensei, from all of your fans, come off the bleedin' hiatus! Okay!

Author's Note; Man, last chapter was hard to write. I can't do Tatsumi well; the guy's too stuffy. Bleh. This chapter is Hisoka. Yay, I get to write as 'Soka-chan…. Oh, damnit. -runs away from pissed off Hisoka-

-five minutes later- -mumble grumble- Little brat.… It's a nickname, for crying out loud! Back on track (I'm a tad out of it today, if you can't tell, my fine friends,) Hisoka's easier for me to write for some reason (I don't question why I can write the psycho flaming gay guy, and Mister Anger Management, I just don't want to know,) so this character should turn out more fun than the last. With Tsusoka references galore. Yay shounen-ai! What happens when Hisoka can't deal with Tatsumi and Watari's perspective shielding and over reaction? It's driving his empathy up a wall and his temper through the roof, of course. …Poor, poor, Tsuzuki. We knew him well, and lov-- well, put up with him, anyway. Last note, the quote for this chapter… I'm not sure why, but it seemed to fit bother Tsuzuki and Hisoka's relationship, but even more so Watari and Tatsumi. Does anyone else get that, or am I nuts? (I am anyway, but…)

* * *

"Friendship is precious, not only in the shade, but in the sunshine of life. And thanks to a benevolent arrangement of things, the greater part of life is sunshine."

-Thomas Jefferson

The dinner last night had been a pleasant turn of events. Exhibiting self-control which Hisoka would not have expected from the older man, Tsuzuki managed to show at least some traces of maturity, and had accepted the restaurant chosen for him without complaint. Despite the lack of chocolate slathered…things.

But he'd had a cinnamon sugared doughnut produced for him during the walk home, so maybe that had something to do with it.

The next day at work he had been Tsuzuki, though. His personality every bit as inane, chattering, and…full of child-like wonder as it always was. While his attention span, or lack there of, usually irritated Hisoka, he could deal with it. Earlier on in their partnership Hisoka just scowled and ignored, and snapped, acting generally brusque as he wanted to.

Several years later, he learned to deal with it better, and manage to get the paperwork (or at least his half-- he still _refused_ to do Tsuzuki's, partner or no,) done while looking like he was listening and picking up enough facts to repeat it back if he was ever questioned. Ordinarily, Hisoka would be doing that.

But Tsuzuki was hurt and pouting, Hisoka was suffering from a very bad headache, and he blamed the entire thing on two people in the office. One of whom was projecting loud enough that Hisoka's well practiced shields were shaking, and the other was attempting to shield and instead projecting far too much desperation, while keeping everything else hidden. Except for confusion. For some reason, there was a lot of that.

And Hisoka swore by every god, Shikigami, and anything else considered a damned deity, if they didn't start showing some control, he was going to beat their brains in and not feel once damned ounce of guilt.

Okay, well, maybe a little guilt, but that was just because Tsuzuki was over in the corner of their office, actually working (or looking like he was,) and shooting pitiful, sad, puppy dog eyes at the back of Hisoka's head. Anyone who got those eyes felt at least a little guilty. Even if they weren't part of the argument/situation and had no idea what was going on, there was guilt.

There was silence, save for Tsuzuki's sniffled whimpers and the clack of Hisoka's fingers against the keyboard; the former of which was making the younger boy's eyebrow twitch dangerously. A particularly high pitched whimper later, and it was beyond eyebrow twitches.

"Will you stop that?" Hisoka snapped, turning around to face his partner with a murderous expression. Anyone, with any intelligence at all, would have stopped. Fortunately for Tsuzuki, he may have been crazy, he may have been asinine, but he was not stupid.

Neither was he a genius, because though the crying had ceased, he muttered, "But Hisoka…." Drawing out the last word longer than was necessary, Tsuzuki didn't seem to know what to add beyond that, as he fell silent.

There were a few moments during which Hisoka felt guilty. Sure, Tsuzuki was the most irritating thing this side of small children's shows, but snapping at him because he was having a bad day probably wasn't the best way to deal with things. Hisoka stared at the screen before his eyes, and sighed. The tapping of his fingers on his keyboard had died away, and Hisoka muttered, "…I just have a headache today." Which was as close to an apology as he could bring himself, and certainly meant something if he was giving Tsuzuki a reason why he needed quiet, and admitting something was wrong.

Hisoka regretted it almost immediately. Tsuzuki was sitting on his desk as he had been before, with _that _look on his face and his hand pressed against Hisoka's forehead. _That _look was the worried look. The look that was only for Hisoka, and used far too often for the younger Shinigami's taste. "You do? Why didn't you say something earlier?" Tsuzuki shifted his hand slightly, those violet eyes of his managing to somehow be both caring and omniscient at once, though he chose wisely not to comment on the pale blush that raced across his partner's face. His hand slipped down to the boy's upper chest before pulling away. "You don't have a fever."

"Idiot," Hisoka hissed, batting at the hand as it pulled away. "Of course I don't! It's not that I'm sick." He paused a few moments, controlling the rush of blood to his face and tempering his empathy, which had skyrocketed. After dealing purely with Tatsumi and Watari, Tsuzuki's caring, concern, and similar warm feelings had been too quick a contrast. Though certainly not a bad one.

Once emotions were under control (such tricky things, those damn emotions,) Hisoka proceeded to explain the situation, or what little he knew of it, to Tsuzuki. The basis was, Watari was upset, Tatsumi was, too, and hiding it badly, Hisoka was getting both, he was pissed, and now his head hurt.

Which Tsuzuki fully understood to mean that Hisoka was about as volatile as nitroglycerin during an earthquake. For a moment, the man considered the situation, and came up with the most obvious solution. One, to both stop the emotions, or at least find out what was going on, (gossip _was_ interesting and Wakaba loved it,) and two, get him out of work for a good half an hour or so. "Well, why don't we just ask them what's going on?" He smiled, tilted his head slightly to the side, so disarming, that smile. His words suggested that this was the most obvious solution in the world.

Hisoka blinked. And again. And a third time, just for good measure, giving his partner a look that clearly questioned whatever sanity Tsuzuki might have left. "But…" he trailed off, as if this should have been obvious. Too many years as a loner had instilled in him a strong sense of privacy, and a respect for other's privacy. "It's none of our business."

"Yes, it is," Tsuzuki argued. "They're our friends, aren't they? And we're trying to help. So, it's technically not prying or anything." Hisoka's expression still read the response of, 'Yes, it is,' so Tsuzuki added, "And if we do, you won't have a headache, so I won't be distracted, and I'll do my half of the paperwork."

Hisoka's expression shifted to one of disdainful disbelief. "You're distracted by a pushpin. You never do you're work."

"Aw… 'Soka-chan--"

"_Do not _call me that!" An open hand made contact with the back of Tsuzuki's head, and a fearsome glare was sent at him, making the older man cringe and duck, spouting off apologies and looking generally pathetic. In a cute sort of way.

-------

Ten minutes later, much whining, and even more planning, they had reached a decision. Or rather, Hisoka had given up and let Tsuzuki explain his plan, and had agreed to it (under the promise of finished paperwork, no more whining, and no fighting with Terazuma for a week and a half.) The latter promise would probably last about five days, but it had been worth a try.

Tsuzuki had made it abundantly clear; Hisoka would go and speak with Watari, and he would go and speak with Tatsumi. Hisoka understood the logic in this, if only because Tatsumi and he had history, and the secretary had always held a soft spot for his old partner. He'd therefore, be more likely to speak with Tsuzuki. Hisoka had been sent to Watari simply because Watari had taken a liking to Hisoka, and Tsuzuki was gullible. Whatever else could be said for the scientist, he was a good actor when he wanted to be. No matter what was projected, no one was happy all the time.

So now Hisoka was walking down the halls of the Summons Department towards the lab area, a place usually avoided due to obviously dangerous goings on in the general vicinity. However, Tsuzuki had given him _that_ look, so, here he was. Because, really, though Hisoka would never admit it, and would fight tooth and nail against it, there was nothing one could do against _that_ look.

Watari's lab especially should have been labeled with something along the lines of, 'Enter at your own risk.' Combine that with an upset Watari and far too many unstable substances for the empath's taste, and it was a recipe for disaster. Hisoka paused in front of the door, stalling for what precious few seconds he could, and knocked.

There was a few seconds silence, some scuffling, and the clink of glass from the other side of the door, all muffled by the heavy door that lay in between them. Hisoka sighed softly, and raised his fist to knock again, when a small explosion sounded, followed by indignant squawking (no doubt from Watari's birds,) and soft mumbling.

Hisoka opened the door, and staggered back a few steps. The combination of both smoke from the miniature explosion and Watari's extreme emotions hit the boy, one after another, and it took him a moment to collect himself before entering the lab, coughing. "W-Watari-san?"

The scientist shoved open a window, clearing the room of most of the smoke, looking half out of his head, and still muttering to himself. His eyes were not on Hisoka, but rather a green-ish…kinda…looking concoction that rested on the table.

"Watari-san." Hisoka spoke louder this time, and was rewarded when Watari glanced over at him, looking surprised before his smile was once more affixed on his warm face.

"Bon! I'm sorry, I didn't see you." He dusted off his lab jacket in a rough sort of way, and tucked back a few strands of blonde hair that had escaped from his plaited hair. "I get so wrapped up I don't think I'd notice anything, really." The older man laughed, and took a seat, and finally focused his eyes on Hisoka. "So what can I do ya for, bon? I don't think you're on a case, but maybe I was supposed to be looking up something for you. Was I? I have to check my records, I just was working on--"

"Watari-san!" Hisoka refrained from twitching with admirable self control. Really, the guy was as bad as Tsuzuki on a sugar high, and he didn't need accelerants to do it. "That's not why I'm here, Watari-san." Hisoka took a seat, though it hadn't been offered. Most likely Watari had either been too absent-minded, or else not looking to prolong whatever conversation Hisoka had wanted to have. "You know why I'm here."

Watari's eyes grew serious for a moment, and his smile twitched, but it was only for a moment. "Nope, sorry. You're the empath, remember? Not me." He motioned 003 down from her roost near the ceiling, and the bird hooted softly. "Oh, come on; it wasn't that bad. Besides, the smoke will just rise up there." The bird shifted, hunkered down, before conceding defeat and flying over to Hisoka. Apparently, despite his temper, the boy was considered safer than the mad scientist.

Hisoka allowed the owl to curl up against him, and absently offered her a finger to nuzzle against. "Fine," he said, then added, bluntly, "What's wrong, then? You've been acting strangely all day." Well, stranger than usual.

Watari raised his eyebrow, looking at him in an odd way, as if worried about his sanity. Looks that the mad scientist usually only received, never gave. "What do you mean? I'm fine." He grinned, as if to prove the point, and added, "Why do you ask? It seems like a bolt from the blue."

"Like you said; I'm an empath. Between you and Tatsumi-san, you're both giving me a headache." Hisoka did not miss the way Watari's expression shifted, so, so subtly, at the mention of his superior's name. "Has it got something to do with him?"

Watari paused before he asked, "Do you know what today is?"

It took Hisoka a moment to follow the swift and rather transparent change of topic, and he was nearly twitching. No, Watari was not as bad as Tsuzuki. He was worse. Unable to quell his sarcasm, he asked, "The anniversary of the first time you blew up your lab?"

"Um…." Watari thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly. "No, that's in October." He grinned, disarmingly, and stood, moving towards a wide spread pile of papers, notes, that had managed to fly across the table (whether before or during the explosion was anybody's guess.)

Though Hisoka waited a few more seconds, Watari did not add to his previous statement, nor answer his own question. "So," he asked, attempting to keep his voice level. "What is it, then?"

"Huh?" Watari looked up from a handful of papers. "What?"

"What is today? I asked what today was." Hisoka pulled the small owl from his shoulder, as 003 had become far too interested in chewing on his collar, and he liked this shirt.

Watari paused, then shrugged. "I forget. Hey, bon, do you want to help with an experiment? I was working on something new when you came in, and--"

Hisoka had begun rubbing steady fingers against his temples, in a calming way, before he glanced up at the man. "No, Watari-san. Stop changing the subject. I asked you what was wrong." Though he was being brusque, it was only too clear he was actually worried about the older man.

Watari sighed, shuffling his notes into a semi-neat pile, and clipping them together before tossing them in a lackadaisical way onto his computer desk. "I'll have to type those up later…." With absent fingers he pulled the ribbon from his hair, and ran long fingers through the strands, unraveling the heavy curls that had woven around each other. He sighed, again, before dropping into his seat, and finally really looking at Hisoka. The smile on his face was smaller, more sad, but also genuine. And so achingly sad. "Yeah, bon, there's something wrong. And even though you're pretty astute, I'm not sure you'd completely understand this." Noting that Hisoka's eyes had narrowed, and correctly interpreting it, he laughed, and added, "It's not because you're younger. It'd because I don't think you've ever been in this situation."

Hisoka stroked the tiny owl that had slid down to his lap, watching her amber eyes slide slowly closed and her body curl up in a comfortable sort of way. "How would you know that I'm not familiar with the situation if you don't ask?"

"Because, bon, I'm willing to take the wager that you haven't," Watari commented, with a wry laugh. "Besides, I really don't feel like talking about it, anyway." He offered that smile again as consolation.

It was like running in circles, and even then never knowing where you're going. Trying to get information out of Watari was difficult, especially for Hisoka, who had never been all that much of a conversationalist. Hesitantly, he lowered his shields a little, reaching forward to try and understand what was going through Watari's mind. He picked up a few things, what had been more strongly projected, before a burst of excitement, so strong and so sudden it wiped out everything else, emerged, and Hisoka was forced to retreat, closing himself off with a wince. It hadn't been bad, just so unexpected, and too much of it….

"It's done!" Watari jumped over to his strange green looking concoction. "Perfect. It will just have to work this time, I know it will." He picked it up, placing a rubber stopper on the top, and scrawling something haphazardly across the front. He put it back down, then glanced over at Hisoka and smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that, bon. I was waiting for that to have a reaction. I wasn't trying to cut you off there."

Hisoka glanced at the liquid suspiciously. The color had not changed, nor, it seemed, had the consistency, or anything else the boy could see. He turned that over in his mind, before realizing the scientist had done that on purpose. The surprise at that thought must have registered on his face, because Watari had the oddest little smile on his face when he sat down once more.

It was maddening, as if Watari was playing with him, and he had half a mind to leave, but he could already _feel_ Tsuzuki's disappointment, and see his face when Hisoka told him, no, he hadn't found out. It was time to play a guessing game. "Judging by the fact that both you and Tatsumi are acting weird, on the same day, something happened between you two, right?" Hisoka watched, feeling accomplished when he saw the older man's gaze flicker away from his for barely a second. "Over what? Work, funds?"

Watari merely looked at him over the rims of his glasses, his elbows on the lab table, fingers interlaced and head resting on his fingers. "No, bon. We didn't argue. And it wasn't about work." When he offered no more than that, Hisoka frowned.

"Well, then, what was it? It seems like you argued."

"Sometimes, things are more subtle, and more delicate, and they can seem like arguments," Watari offered, in a passive sort of way.

Hisoka dropped his head, his gaze sliding once more to the owl in his lap, now curled against his palm, and happily dozing. The tips of his fingers traced along her silken wings, and he looked back up at his friend. "I don't quite understand."

Watari smiled, not in a condescending manner, but more comforting. "Everyone says I do experiments, bon. That's not it. Experiments are in a controlled environment, where the whole point is to prove a thesis or hypothesis which is already believed or known to be true." If he noted Hisoka's questioning look (as if daring him to try to change the subject again,) Watari did not respond to it. "When you mix two dissimilar variables, the results will usually take to one extreme or the other. Either they will be compatible, or, most likely, they'll blow up in your face. Last night, I attempted to make a variable which was unstable on its own, and one which I knew to have better reaction with another variable meet." He was quiet for a moment, his eyes on Hisoka's, trying to make the boy understand. "It failed."

Hisoka looked thoroughly confused before he managed to piece it together in his mind. Two variables, Watari and Tatsumi. The scientist must've had a negative reaction from the older secretary. "It exploded?"

"No, there was no reaction." Watari's smile was so sad once more, and when he stood, with a lithe stretch, his motions seemed more lethargic than ever. "Answer your questions, bon?"

"Not really; I asked if you were all right." Hisoka took the hint and stood, none the less, removing the small owl from his lab and resting her on the table before her owner. 003 opened her eyes, blinked, obviously confused at the change of scenery. However, she flew up, and as if sensing the troubled feelings of her owner, attempted to burrow into his collar.

Watari chuckled, and lifted the lapel of the lab coat, allowing 003 to hide under it and peaceably close her eyes. "Well, I will be. Same thing, right?" He smiled, and pulled a ribbon from his pocket, an amber to match his eyes, and threaded it through his heavy locks. He wrestled with the curls for a moment, before sighing and settling for just pulling them back into a tail, rather than anything fancy. Some days the hair was a bit much to deal with.

Hisoka paused, unsure of how to reply to Watari's words. "I dunno if it is or not."

"Welcome to my confusion." Watari yawned, and cast the boy a wearied smile. "Well, I have to get back to work, or Tatsumi will come in and yell about productivity. Or at least he would if he wasn't avoiding me like the bubonic plague." He shrugged, tilting his hands out as if to say, 'Ah, well.'

Hisoka nodded, and waved as he passed through the door. Shutting it behind him, he did not see Watari's ironic smile, nor hear his muttered, "I knew it was a bad idea to put an empath on staff."

The halls were never quite bustling in the ministry, although there were always the occasional staff who avoided paperwork, Tatsumi's anger, or Watari's love of explosions simply by avoiding those specific wings of the office altogether. Hisoka passed by them with little more than a nod, though he did offer Kannuki the tiniest hint of a smile for her bright greeting.

Tsuzuki waited for him, standing so near to the door of their office that Hisoka had to avoid braining him with the door (which had started to look very appealing when he started yammering and asking questions a mile a minute,) as he walked in. "Tsuzuki." Hisoka cut across the older man's words. "Slow down, or don't say it." His glare, though, belied the anger in his words, as it was nowhere near as fierce as his expression could have been.

Tsuzuki pointedly took a deep breath, and remained quiet for a few seconds, before raising his eyebrows at his younger partner, as if to both prove the point that he _could_ be quiet, and ask if he could speak now. When he took Hisoka's rolled eyes as a yes, he started again. "So what happened? What did Watari say? Does it have to do with Tatsumi?"

Hisoka answered in a rather to the point matter which he noticed made his partner frown. Hisoka didn't like to gossip; Tsuzuki loved gossip, and he knew he could use it on Wakaba-chan to get treats whenever he wanted. "I went to his lab, asked him what was wrong, was led on a wild goose chase for about ten minutes while he progressively blew things up, got off topic, asked if I wanted to help his experiments, and used my own empathy against me." The boy shot his partner an annoyed look when the older man stifled his laughter. "Something funny?"

"Yeah, well, Watari's a lot smarter than people give him credit for. He really gets stuff." Tsuzuki grinned, adding, "Sorry, he just probably knew why you were there. Anyway, go ahead."

"Fine. He told me that he had a confrontation with Tatsumi-san and it ended badly."

When Hisoka did not add more than that, Tsuzuki gave his partner a curious look. "Was that all he said?"

Hisoka shrugged. "The gist of it."

Shaking his head, Tsuzuki said, "There's more to it than that, Hisoka. What were his exact words?"

"I can't give it to you exactly; it was out of context and he was using metaphors," Hisoka replied, sounding a tad exasperated. "I dunno. Something about mixing two unlike variables, himself and Tatsumi-san, I assume, and how the reaction was negative. It was something about how nothing happened. It was kind of confusing."

Tsuzuki for a moment looked at his partner as if fearing for his sanity. "Wait, you mean he finally told Tatsumi-san how he felt, and the reaction was bad?" He nodded, half to himself. "That makes sense."

Hisoka managed to stay out of office gossip, very well, too, despite having Tsuzuki for his partner. However, he was not stupid, and not noticing Watari and Tatsumi's feelings would have been the equivalent of not noticing being hit of the head with a rather large stick. "Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, you sent me to find out so you could talk to Tatsumi. Now go, and we can get this idea of yours over with. You still have work from three cases ago piled up."

"Aw…but 'Soka…." Tsuzuki looked at him piteously, working the puppy-dog look for all he could.

Hisoka glared, and pointed. "Go. You're the one who wanted to do this. It was your idea."

"All right, 'Soka," Tsuzuki said, noting how his partner's eyes narrowed at the nickname. He grinned added, "Don't miss me too much!" And swiftly closed the door to the office behind him, as a book flew against it. Too bad; he'd really wanted to see the blush on Hisoka's face when he'd said that. Smiling, though his next confrontation would be so much harder, Tsuzuki headed down to Tatsumi's office, unable to keep his chuckles silent at the thought of his younger partner's expression.

* * *

A/N; 'Nother chapter done. I only got one review for the last one, and that hurt a bit. -sniff- Yeah, just ignore me…. Anyway, I'd really appreciate if you would review, please. Please, please! Seriously, I'm not above begging. Even if it's to say, "I didn't really like this, you should do this instead." That's fine. I know the last chapter was introspective, so it's not of as much interest, but I had to get across Tatsumi-san's feelings before I continued. This chapter was a lot more fun; Anger Management boy is always fun to write. Next time, Tsuzuki and Tatsumi's chapter. Yay! And I suck at writing both of them…damn.

Eternalsailorsolarwind- Thank you for your review, so much. Yeah, introspective is hard to write for me, and I'm so, so glad that you thought it turned out well. I didn't want Tatsumi to come out as over done, but basically? Our favorite secretary is flustered over his feelings and confused, so he's trying to distance himself, but ends up only hurting poor Watari-sama and himself. Silly Shadow Master, the scientist is for you! Yes, Watari's basically suffering. Like that old quote, "The opposite of love is not hate but indifference." Wonder if Tatsumi-san's ever heard that? If he had, he might understand that while he's trying not to hurt Watari, he actually is. Poor, poor, confused Tatsumi.


	4. Chapter III

Title; The Rose

Rating; _Still_ M. Basically just for the next chapter….

Disclaimer; Muahahaha! MINE! -sees lawyers- Uhm, I mean…the plot. Yes, uhm, nice plot. I don't own the characters at all…. Uhm. -run-

Author's Notes; Last chapter was fun to write, simply because Watari is fun to write (as is Hisoka.) This chapter is Tsuzuki and Tatsumi conflict, but how can Tatsumi deal with the recipient of his affections talking to him about feelings for another? Badly, of course! (Insert evil and/or maniacal laughter here.) This, like Tatsumi's introspective chapter, was a bit difficult to write, but I enjoyed it anyway. I hope you guys enjoy it, too, and please tell me if you feel it was too OOC. I'm one of those strange people who goes back and rewrites stuff she doesn't like. -gasp-

* * *

One flight down  
There's a song on low  
And your mind just picked up on the sound  
Now you know you're wrong  
Because it drifts like smoke  
And it's been there playing all along  
Now you know  
Now you know

-Norah Jones, _One Flight Down_

To Tsuzuki, Seiichiro Tatsumi's office was a danger zone. His only reasons for going there would be due to his screwing up the budget, his not working, his not turning in his work, or Tatsumi was worried about him. The latter? It never happened.

Or rarely ever, anyway, as Tatsumi tried to appear professional. There would always be the occasional times when Tatsumi invited him in for a cup of tea which Tsuzuki would attempt to prolong (both out of enjoying time with his friend and killing those non-working work hours,) which would end in The Look, and the stern warnings to get back to work. He never really clearly explained those warnings, but bodily harm seemed to be the most plausible ending to them.

Or the scary butcher knife.

Now, though, Tsuzuki found himself knocking lightly against Tatsumi's door. As he waited with somewhat bated breath, he wondered the most tactful way to approach this (and maybe he should have considered this earlier,) but Tatsumi's voice broke swiftly through his train of thought.

"Come in."

The voice sounded somewhat wearied, or else just very quiet. Tsuzuki couldn't be sure without seeing the man, however when he entered, Tatsumi was not at first looking at him, but his gaze cast down to the files on his desk. "Tatsumi? Do you have a free minute?"

The other man finally looked up, taking in the purple eyed Shinigami before he took off his glasses, rubbing his eyelids. "If it really is a minute, Tsuzuki-san. I'm rather busy at the moment." To belie his words, he motioned towards one of the chairs in front of his desk and placed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, it'll be quick," Tsuzuki assured him and took a seat as indicated. Despite the hours that had already passed in their day, there seemed to be only a few documents in the box marked 'Out' and ten-fold that in the box marked 'In'. Usually, it seemed the secretary would have more done than that, and case files over on his filing cabinet seemed completely untouched. "I was just wondering if everything was okay. You seemed a little off today."

Tatsumi leaned back in his chair the slightest bit, and crossed his arms. "Yes. Well, as I said, I do have quite a lot to do." He raised one of his eyebrows over the rim of his glasses, adding in a swift, though not unkindly way, "Will that be all?"

It didn't take great intelligence to know that Tatsumi was attempting, none too subtly, to get rid of the other man. However, as anyone can vouch for, Tsuzuki was not easy to get rid of when he became determined. "Tatsumi, is that it? 'Cause Hisoka said he was getting some stuff from you." He debated momentarily about dropping the hammer, but decided against it. That would be his last ditch attempt.

The older man shifted in his seat a little, though not out of place, rather as though he hadn't moved in quite a while before Tsuzuki had begun knocking on his door. "Perhaps Kurosaki-kun misunderstood."

"Tatsumi, you know he wouldn't."

There was a moment of silence, and Tatsumi seemed more willing to wait it out, for all its awkwardness, rather than elucidate on the situation at hand. The silence could stretch on for an eternity, if Tsuzuki could manage to hold his tongue and attempt to wait it out. It was fortunate that he couldn't, though, and instead, settled back in his chair to add more to his previous statement.

"Hisoka was also telling me that Watari was projecting even worse than you are." Despite what might have been said by…well, the larger part of Meifu, Tsuzuki was not an idiot. He noticed the Shadow Masters narrowing eyes, the way his mouth tightened into a firm line. Still, though, he did not speak. "It's not the budgets, Tatsumi. Can't you tell me what's really wrong?"

"No." Tatsumi spoke at last, shutting his once partner down with a single word. "Now, if you would be so kind, Tsuzuki-san…." He trailed off and motioned towards the door, his meaning clear. "I did mention I'm extremely busy right now."

Tsuzuki did not move, his mind thinking quickly. He had tried to be serious, had tried being nice, and even a little manipulative (though the latter hardly came easily to him.) Okay, so the eyes didn't quite work on Hisoka. But Hisoka was insanely good at ignoring him, so maybe that had something to do with it (or the fact that they spent almost everyday together, even weekends.) However, maybe it might have a better effect on Tatsumi. "I know, but, please Tatsumi?" To illustrate his point, he widened those pretty amethyst eyes of his. "I was worried!"

"About Kurosaki-kun who probably has an extremely bad headache," Tatsumi replied, and added, "I believe there's some form of mild painkiller in the break room." He pointed to the door once more. How funny. He should have known better.

Tsuzuki rarely gave up in a fight…to anyone who wasn't Hisoka, anyway.

------

Hisoka's eyes swept along the computer screen, his chin on his palm, elbow on table. There were always writers' sites on the internet, and though most authors were only fair, there were a few who outshone even some published works he'd read. Though he largely preferred classics.

It was rare that he had time to scroll through these, lacking a computer at home, and usually forced to finish Tsuzuki's paperwork as well as his own. Deny and refuse to do it though he might, Hisoka ended up doing a large part of their combined office work anyway. However he had managed to finish his own work for the day, and Tsuzuki wasn't hear to wheedle him into doing his, so he had some free time.

The sound of a raised voice emitted from Tatsumi's office, followed by a lower, more pleading tone. Hisoka merely froze for a second, not even bothering to move his head, his eyes shooting over to the door.

"Idiot."

He went back to gazing at the screen, and unprovoked in his memory, he recalled what Tsuzuki's response to that had been only a few days ago. _"Aw, but Hisoka, I'm **your** idiot!" _Which had led to a hug, blushing on his part, and yelling (also on his part.)

Hisoka glanced towards the door again, hearing his partner's soft, cajoling tones and feeling the heat rise to his face again. "Hm." Hisoka softly huffed and began reading. He was thinking about Tsuzuki again.

…Damnit.

------

Much cajoling, more stern talking to, numerous attempts to have Tsuzuki out of the office, and many minutes later, Tatsumi had finally given up, flopped back down to his seat with a sigh (he'd eventually stood up and sternly told Tsuzuki to leave or be removed.) Haltingly, and attempting to be vague, he had explained the gist of the night before, and once finished, he looked up at Tsuzuki, resettling his glasses on his nose. "Satisfied?"

Tsuzuki was silent, weighing in his mind and drawing his own conclusions. Things made a lot more sense now. "Kinda… it explains why Watari was acting as weird as Hisoka said he was."

"As long as he's not destroying things."

Tsuzuki knew better than to believe that the off-hand way the secretary spoke was really how the man felt. "No, apparently the explosion was only minor."

Tatsumi's head jerked up from his work, and he glanced at Tsuzuki over the rim of his glasses. Slowly, he remarked, "Explosion?"

"Yeah, it was an explosion," Tsuzuki repeated. "Hisoka couldn't go back to check on him. Watari was projecting so much he nearly fainted." A little white lie, but it was for a good cause. Tatsumi was gonna kill him after all was said and done with this. "Anyway, Watari's--"

Tsuzuki was cut off by Tatsumi's raised hand. Making sure the Shinigami would remain silent, he continued his questions. "How bad was the explosion?"

"I dunno…" Tsuzuki pretended to think, then replied, "Um, there was a lot of black smoke, he said, and a couple crashes, so I guess some stuff broke…."

For some reason, Tatsumi seemed very close to twitching again. "And it didn't occur to you," he began to ask, "Tsuzuki, that you might want to check that he didn't manage to blow up everything in the general vicinity? Or start another fire?"

Tsuzuki shrugged a little, hiding a smile. "Nope. I wasn't there. I told you; Hisoka was." He could see the calculating side of Tatsumi coming out. Both a way to get Tsuzuki out of his office, and make sure Watari was wasting anymore funds than he usually did.

Of course it was all calculating. Not that he was actually worried, really. Nope, not at all. Tatsumi stood, moving around his desk towards the door, which he now held open. "Tsuzuki-san, if you ever wish to see your paycheck again, you will leave; now." Combining the glare that was enough to make small children (rather like Tsuzuki) cry and send even Muraki running (well, perhaps not, but that doctor was a few crayons short of a box, anyway.)

In any case, Tsuzuki got the message and with a quick, "Bye, Tatsumi!" he raced out the door and towards the (relative) safety of the office he shared with Hisoka. Once inside, he closed the door, only to find Hisoka's reaction to be less excitable than he had hoped. Where were the questions, the need for gossip? The boy had gone back to his computer screen in a matter of seconds. "Hisoka, you're never gonna believe this."

"Don't care."

Tsuzuki seemed to ignore this less than encouraging statement, and would not let it get him down. "Tatsumi is headed down to Watari's lab now! When he kicked me out he left, too, and he must have been going there."

Hisoka still only offered his partner a small look before going back to his computer. "Or he was getting a cup of coffee."

"No," Tsuzuki said, drawing out the word slightly. "He's got to be going to Watari's lab, because I told him about the explosion that happened."

Now Hisoka looked up, suspicious. "The explosion before I talked to him? The little one?"

"Uhm, yeah, that's the one." Previously very eager to speak with Hisoka about the situation, Tsuzuki was now looking avidly at the wall paper just to the left of Hisoka's ear.

Hisoka's eyes narrowed. "You told him it was a small explosion, didn't you?"

Tsuzuki smiled, attempting to placate his partner. "It slipped my mind, Hisoka."

As Hisoka slammed the door which Tsuzuki had left open, shouting was heard. Needless to say, Tsuzuki, commander of the Twelve Protector Shikigami, was rather scared of Hisoka, who had never _had _a Shikigami.

------

Tatsumi wasn't quite sure why he was walking down to Watari's lab. Of course there were the logical reasons; Watari had blown something up, possibly wasting more of the funds that they didn't have to waste, and it shut up Tsuzuki and got the nut case out of his office.

It was nice to see Tsuzuki in there, though, and occasionally talk with the younger man, but to have him come in to talk about Watari? It had been…awkward to Tatsumi, a man who above all else, avoided such situations.

None the less, he knew the logical reasons hadn't been why he was traversing the Ministry building to talk to a man he was specifically avoiding, about a lab accident, that, in all honesty, he didn't really want to know about. Just thinking about the damage made him wince.

Still, he none the less found himself standing in front of the scientist's door, hesitating before knocking. Nervousness had never been one of his weaknesses, though it plagued Tatsumi now, causing him to chastise himself before firmly rapping his knuckles against the door.

"Come in."

Most certainly Watari's voice and he sounded fine, so perhaps this had been a foolish idea to come. However to leave would have meant that he had come purely on behalf of Watari's well being, and it hadn't been that. That would've been ridiculous, seeing as how the man attempted to blow things up on a near daily basis.

Tatsumi stepped into the office, expecting to find broken instruments and charred walls. There were none. A slightly acrid smell of old smoke in the air, but things seemed fine otherwise. Watari sat at the lab table, his computer before him and working on what appeared to be a crossword. His hair was falling into his eyes, and his glasses were slipped down his nose, but he looked up, saw Tatsumi, and a look of surprise, smiled. "Oh, Tatsumi," he greeted. "I hadn't expected to see you." He rested his newspaper and his pen against his lap, offering the other man his full attention.

Yutaka Watari was an eternal optimist, Tatsumi realized. No one else would pick out the most difficult crosswords and cryptograms and complete them in pen, so sure were they of their answers. "No, I only stopped by due to something I heard from Tsuzuki." He glanced around the office once more, as if expecting to suddenly have something burst into flame. "He mentioned there was an accident in here?"

"An accident?" Watari asked, looking confused. "Oh, you mean the one from this morning! It wasn't that bad though. If you keep water and phosphorus in an enclosed space, the reaction can be violent, and it kinda started a fire-- I think it hit the Bunsen burner and I think I lost a set of notes, but…." He trailed off, shrugged. "Either way, nothing too bad happened. Just a lot of smoke."

Tatsumi had a brief, but mind you, very strong, urge to hurt Tsuzuki. Very strong, that urge. He repressed it, rather replying with, "Oh, I see. Tsuzuki had made it out to be worse than it actually is, but none the less I'll take my leave."

The smaller man jumped up, holding out one hand. "Tatsumi, wait a second. I wanted to talk to you, anyway."

------

"Stalking is illegal!"

"This isn't stalking, it's spying."

"Then it's still not right."

Tsuzuki cast his younger partner a resigned sort of look. They were spying, okay, it wasn't as if they were stealing. They were just doing some off-hours detective work.

"And I'm fairly sure some form of this is illegal," Hisoka responded, hoping this would end the argument and stop his partner from dragging him down to Watari's lab. He should have known better, as it didn't.

"Yes, well, we're dead." And with this inarguable point, he continued to drag Hisoka until they reached the door to Watari's lab. He glanced through the window; neither man was looking at the door, and he could just see Watari stand up to make Tatsumi stay. "We got here just in time."

"I am not watching this; it's an invasion of privacy!" Hisoka hissed.

Tsuzuki turned his head slightly against the door to hear the conversation, and muttered, "Yeah, well, I'm curious and I wanna see what happens."

------

Tatsumi paused, about to turn to the door, but instead looked at the blonde man now standing before him. "Yes?"

Watari took a deep breath, and began. At a faster rate than anyone should ever speak, no matter what the circumstances. "I wanted to apologize for last night. It was really out of line. I don't know what I was thinking-- well, I mean, I wasn't thinking, obviously, and I know that you have feelings for somebody else, and we're just friends. I'd rather not lose that friendship, 'cause to throw away thirty something years because I was being stupid is such a waste. And you don't have to forgive me, but I'd really hope you would…."

Unable to keep up beyond that point, Tatsumi merely blinked, and half tuned out, watching as the scientist spoke with his hands, shaking his head occasionally while his lips never seemed to pause to so much as take a breath.

The obvious thought was that Watari would continue on this tract for quite a while, as the man was only too able to find the right words to keep speaking until he got whatever was going through his mind out. And he often had a lot going through his mind. Had Tsuzuki or Terazuma begun talking like this, he would threaten them with pay cuts or simply tell them to shut up. Wakaba, Yuma, or Saya would have earned a little bit longer on their lunch hour to go away.

Neither of these would have worked with Watari; a pay cut had no reason here, shut up would only hurt the man, and lunch had already passed. So this, of course, left only one logical thing to do. It wasn't as if he _wanted _to do it, but it was the only way to stop Watari from talking.

------

Watari was more than happy to continue, however in mid sentence, the secretary's mouth descended upon his. Within a moment his back was against the lab table, the other's hand reaching through heavy curls to cradle the back of his neck.

From the moment it had begun, Watari accepted and understood; he was not the one in control here. Chapped lips, light as a feather, brushed across his own, and as Watari attempted to push into them, they drew back, teasing.

Refraining from opening his eyes to glare at Tatsumi, he leaned back once more, only to feel that touch again. And if Tatsumi was going to be difficult, why should he be easy? Despite more insistent prying, his lips remained sealed, until out of impatience, or merely a desire to one-up the scientist, Tatsumi nipped the man's lower lip.

Opening his mouth either out of surprise, surrender or something far more pleasant, even Watari himself wasn't sure, and he felt just the tip of the other man's tongue, but as before, any overly active attempts to respond were ignored.

The single question came to mind, where the _hell_ had Tatsumi learned to kiss like this? Watari was half leaning against the table for support, though his other arm had wrapped around the secretary's neck, hand gripped the once neatly pressed suit jacket.

And conscious thought was lost once more, when Watari could feel the ghost of a touch along his lower spine, and why had he not done this last night? When Watari would have most likely dragged him up to his apartment? Hell, he was about two seconds away from just pulling Tatsumi onto the floor.

------

"They're kissing!" Tsuzuki hissed, wide-eyed. Had he really just seen Tatsumi kiss Watari? He rubbed his eyes with his fists. Nope, still happening.

Hisoka looked up at him from where he sat. "Really? Well, there, you saw, now can we go?" He really didn't want to know about his superiors' love lives…especially with each other.

Tsuzuki glanced at him incredulously. "Are you kidding? I can't believe this!" He turned back to the door.

"No, what you won't believe is what Tatsumi will do to you when he catches you spying on him," Hisoka retorted, looking annoyed. "Pay cuts, physical harm, threats of being fired, loosing his shadows on you…."

"…Maybe we should go."

Hisoka stood and started down the hall. "Glad you see it my way. Now you have to do your paperwork, so I don't lose a cut of my paycheck because of it."

Tsuzuki caught up with him, pouting. "But, Hisoka…."

"No buts, you promised you would."

But they both knew. Hisoka would argue for a while before "helping him" (basically doing it for him.) Tsuzuki would smile and thank him and hug him, get yelled at, and then want Hisoka to spend time with him.

Hisoka would perhaps take him to that one bakery on the corner, in Kyushu. They had a lot of snacks Tsuzuki liked. But only this once.

------

Tatsumi pulled back, after what seemed to be an eternity, and far too short for Watari. Maybe because he hoped for that to happen, and for it to last for an eternity?

Fearing his legs would give out on him, Watari placed his palms on the desk behind him, and lifted himself up to sit on it, his legs dangling. The secretary stood before him, looking so awkward, and attempting to hide it so badly. Very cute. However, this was hardly the time to say, much less think something like that.

He cocked his head slightly, once ascertaining that Tatsumi would not speak first, and said, "Okay," noticing his voice sounded ever so slightly breathless, he continued none the less. "I just have one question."

"All right," Tatsumi muttered, glancing at the man who had apparently taken all of this quite calmly. He knew what to expect; questions about the night before and his hurting the other man. Maybe about why he had kissed the man here, spur of the moment, even.

"Why the hell did you stop?" Watari looked up at him over the rim of his glasses, arms crossed, and obviously serious.

Chuckling slightly, Tatsumi moved forward once more. Though both were equally happy, there were no eyes spying on them, as there had been before (though unknowingly on their parts.) Even 003, who had come in for one moment, left after seeing the situation. Humans had this weird concentration with their mouths. Very uninteresting.

------

Just as the day was ending (for those of the employees who did not regularly stay late,) Tatsumi called into his office the youngest of the Shinigami. "Kurosaki-kun." Tatsumi glanced up when he entered and removed his glasses. "I wished to speak with you briefly."

Hisoka took a seat, though it was not offered and raised his eyebrows. "About?"

Tatsumi watched him for a moment, and replied with, "I wished to ask you a question. I have no doubt that Tsuzuki-san followed me after my talk with him, and I wondered if you might know the best bribery to keep his mouth shut."

Hisoka actually smiled, or maybe it was a little smirk, but either way it did not speak confidence. "You don't know Tsuzuki. He traded it into Kannuki about an hour and a half ago for a batch of her cookies." He stood, and headed to the door. "Your best bet at this point would be to pretend you don't hear anything. Kannuki will tell Yuma and Saya. Everyone, even those who don't care, will know. Sorry."

Tatsumi watched him go, his elbow on the desk and his fingers supporting his forehead. It was the oddest feeling, somewhere between hysterical laughter and distress. But then, he thought, as he composed himself, perhaps this wasn't the worst situation in the world. So they knew? Perhaps they had known about Watari's feelings for longer than he had; perhaps he had been the one to never understand that the man had been there, calmly waiting for him.

Yes, Watari had always been there. He had just been the last to know. Tatsumi felt like laughing again, and maybe he was going insane. It would explain a lot.

* * *

Author's Notes; First off….I apologize! Gomen nasai! Je suis désolé! And that's about as many languages as I know. To explain, and this isn't meant as an excuse, this chapter was delayed due to writer's block and a summer virus that has spread around my area like wildfire. Extra Strength Tylenol has become my new best friend.

This chapter turned out so completely different than I'd imagined it. The opening quote was even different, but now it's pretty and metaphorical! However, I really hoped to just get it out, as it solidified the final two chapters. The next would be the chapter with shounen-ai (_not _yaoi, and warned you now and I will again when it's posted,) and the epilogue? Fluff! Yay! Then onto stuff that kept coming to me when I was writing this.

To my reviewers- Five of you? Thank you so much. - I hope this lives up to your expectations. Yougods of my teenage self-esteem.

Eternalsailorsolarwind- You have reviewed every chapter and I love it so much. Thank you! Yes, Hisoka is Anger Management Boy. It's like a super hero name. Him and Tsuzuki; Spazz-man and Anger Management Boy to the rescue! xP I'm so weird. Yeah, Tsuzuki was too hyper last chapter, looking back, so I attempted to calm him down a little in this one. Did he come off better do you think? I loved the idea of Watari going metaphor crazy. He confuses people (he confuses me, and I'm writing him!) Yes, Tatsumi tried unsuccessfully to get Tsuzuki out of his office for many minutes before giving up. Perhaps Tsuzuki used the puppy eyes on him? With cute puppy ears?

Evilfrogger86- It's not that Hisoka doesn't know. He figured out that Watari had feelings for Tatsumi a while ago, and maybe they were mildly reciprocated, but for him, it's sort of like, "Okay, whatever." Versus Tsuzuki, "They like each other!" Yes, lots of Tsuzuki in this chapter. Bad, puppy! No spying!

PuppetofDreams- I tried that. He's bad about the being beaten with a stick thing, and Tatsumi's scary when he's violent. However, -points above- there's your make-out. I don't like to make that sort of thing vague, so it might be too descriptive. You'll have to tell me if you think it's bad. -

Samuraiduck27- Thank you! I know. -has read practically all the Tatari stories on this site- Though if you're thinking of some good ones, check out Something Like Chemistry. Very awesome. And I hope I updated soon enough for you. Three days?

Shadowlark71- It is out! Yay! -dances around- Yes, I think it has been too long. Nine days? -gasp- -whacks self with notebook- Eep! Yesh, damn writer's block. Damn you, I say! I love writing Watari like that; I'm really glad you thought he came out well, though. Watari writes himself, and I don't know why. He's just so flamboyant, that if you phrase it write, nothing's over the top. And then he can be so subtle and confusing too. Thank you, as Tatsumi continues to be a pain in my butt. Ne, bad Tatsumi!

Well, here's the over-due chapter. I hope it lives up to your expectations, and that the kiss wasn't too clichéd or overdone. I wanted it to come off as more natural, and sort of like, Tatsumi finally just kinda gets it… or else just wants Watari to stop talking. You never know with that tricky secretary!

Until next time--which should not take so long!--I remain humbly yours,

--Phoenix


	5. Chapter IV

Title; The Rose

Rating; M (and this chapter is finally why!)

Disclaimer; Don't own it, nope. Sorry. Not even the pretty poem at the beginning of the chapter. I just own my ideas, my words, and my multi-colored sharpie fine-tips. And for the love of a red eyed tiger god, write the twelfth book already, Matsushita-sama!

Authors Notes; I'm glad that the last chapter was met so well. I both hated and loved writing it. Hated because writer's block is evil, and Tatsumi was being a whiney little pain in the butt. He wouldn't do what I wanted without being OoC. Loved it because Watari was just… -sigh- I love that guy. He does exactly what you want and need him to without getting too weird and ruining the story. And crosswords in pen. The optimist!

This chapter has shounen-ai. I offer this as a warning. Many people have different definitions of this, so I'll clarify mine. I consider yaoi to be much more graphic than shounen-ai. I think the term also used is lime? The entire chapter is not this (it'd be a hellova short chapter if it was,) and there is plenty of other Tatsumi x Watari fluff for you to read if you want to skip that section of the chapter. But, as I said, it's barely graphic. Please, enjoy!

* * *

_Now take my hand and hold it tight.  
I will not fail you here tonight,  
For failing you, I fail myself  
And place my soul upon a shelf  
In Hell's library without light.  
I will not fail you here tonight._

-Dean Koontz, "The Book of Counted Sorrows"

Days passed quickly, falling into weeks even more so, and Tatsumi and Watari had become the worst kept secret in Meifu, this side of Tsuzuki and Hisoka are in love and just can't say it.

But really, this was bigger because it was Tatsumi, and everyone lived to harass the secretary in passive aggressive payback for pay cuts, docking, and constant glaring about not doing their prospective jobs. However, this secret, term used loosely, had spread like wildfire, the sort of thing where everybody knows, but at the combined threats of something in your coffee and "The Look" along with shadows and a scary butcher knife, no one really spoke of.

Or most didn't, anyway. Yuma and Saya had attempted and while Watari had merely grinned and asked which coffee mug was their's again (this had resulted in complete silence for the clever Shinigami,) Tatsumi had struggled threatening with The Look, pay cuts, various other not happy things, and eventually just giving up and letting them squeal and jump around.

Until they found Hisoka who promptly smacked them both, and for some reason Tsuzuki, before running like all the hounds of hell were on his heels and muttering something about, "Stupid girls," and "Pink House."

In the passing weeks, Watari had found himself in a particularly good mood which not even the knowing smirks and mutters in the halls could dampen. He knew the muttering wasn't vindictive, anyway, and it had worn out for most people within the first few days or so. However, as a Shinigami, it wasn't often that good things came along, much less anything worth comparing in whispers in the staff room.

And besides it all, after work, knowing in a few hours he would be able to see Tatsumi made it all worth it. They went out to dinners, often late, and talked for hours of things; of books and work and experiments. Though Watari didn't often understand the intricacies of the taxing system and Tatsumi found himself completely lost, not knowing the difference between a compound bond and an ionic bond, it didn't matter too much. Watari was happy to offer an ear when the older man needed to vent, and Tatsumi? He would admit only to himself that he loved the way the blonde's face would light up as he brainstormed out loud.

Watari's favorite, though, was when they didn't go out. When they spent their evenings at one apartment or the other, having dinner there. Tatsumi would insist on cooking, and Watari didn't mind too much; he was a good cook, and for the scientist culinary fell as much under the experimentation category as did chemistry or alchemy. It was safer for all concerned if the Shadow Master took over.

Or they would sit on the couch, Watari often leaning against Tatsumi, or his head in the other man's lap, while some television program played in the background. Tatsumi liked the news, and though Watari found it to be wholly depressing, he would watch it anyway. It helped that, even absently, Tatsumi would run his fingers through the long blonde strands around his face.

Save for in the Ministry building, where Tatsumi had asked him to revert back, Tatsumi had become Seiichiro, then Seii. To Watari, it had become second nature, as if Tatsumi had _always _been Seii to him. However, Watari had remained such for a bit, and only under a direct pleading had Tatsumi begun to use Yutaka. To his credit, though, he had never used the "-san" honorific, in office or out.

Watari was happy, in a way he hadn't thought possible, and hadn't foreseen. Things were not perfect, but they were close.

------

Tatsumi enjoyed the sharp tap of the knife against the cutting board as he worked in the kitchen. Something about the hard noise was nice, in the same way the clack of computer keys might be. Dark indigo eyes glanced from his hands up to the clock, and the tapping of the knife stilled.

He was late, though that was hardly worrisome, as he was always late. Not by much, but always enough. Having learned long ago that it was simply the other man's way, Tatsumi just pushed any meeting or date back a bit. The schedule ended up working out just fine, Watari coming in when Tatsumi wanted him to. Fifteen minutes or so past the time suggested.

"Honey, I'm home!" Well, not that late, then, it seemed. Tatsumi placed one hand over his eyes, stifling a groan. Watari was…Watari. There was no stopping the man; it was like a force of nature. The blonde poked his head inside the kitchen as Tatsumi moved to put the dinner into the oven. "Good, you made dinner; I didn't really feel like going out tonight. You want coffee?"

Tatsumi shook his head, already reaching forward to catch the glass that would have fallen in the scientist's erratic movements (combined with the lab coat that hung on everything.) "Yutaka, the jacket," he reminded him, putting away the cup that had nearly lost its life due to Watari's buoyancy. Tatsumi knew things were either very bad or very good if he had become this used to the other man.

Very good, it seemed, when Watari grimaced a silent apology, shrugging out of the coat and putting down his mug. His long sleeved shirt was loose and dark, the neckline wide around his collarbone, and the ties in the front loosened in a haphazard way. He moved forward, wrapping his arms around Tatsumi's waist without second guess, and for a moment nestling himself against the man's shoulder.

Tatsumi reacted automatically, leaning back against the counter and wrapping his arms around the other man's waist. "Bad day?" he hazarded a guess, and was met with wide brown eyes.

"Not particularly, no," Watari responded. "Just long." His feelings currently explained, he rested his forehead against the man once more. When Tatsumi suggested letting dinner wait until later and sitting out in the living room for a while, Watari glanced up. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Seii, you cooked and everything…."

With a soft sigh, Tatsumi led the other man out and took a seat on the couch, watching Watari curl up against him. "Don't worry about it; it wasn't impressive. Just throw together." He switched on the television, where an obviously made for TV movie was playing, and half zoned out, his fingers falling down to his partner's hair. "And you call me a workaholic," he murmured.

The younger man chuckled. "You are," he pointed out. "I just conveniently failed to mention my own over sighted ambition. You miss my boundless energy." He glanced up with an amused look in his amber eyes. "Admit it."

"I will not. Some of us like quiet," Tatsumi replied, and taking off the other man's glasses. He removed his own and brushed his lips tentatively against Watari's. The response was immediate and eager, long fingers carding through his chestnut hair and a warm mouth plundering against his own. The Shadow Master pulled back slightly, earning him a glare, which he hid a smile from, before coming back, slower.

Watari felt the other man shift his position, turning so that he was lying back against the couch. This left him over the Tatsumi, one leg on the couch and the other dangling. There was a moment when he took in the change before leaning down once more, the television merely white noise in the background now, if not entirely forgotten.

"Mm," Tatsumi mumbled softly through the kiss, and when Watari had pulled away enough that he could speak, he muttered, "We shouldn't go so fast." His face was still very close to Watari's, and he could see the visible disappointment in the other man's face, but the scientist pressed his forehead against Tatsumi's and murmured a wordless assent.

Watari fell curled up against the other man with a soft, nearly inaudible, sigh. He rested against the Tatsumi's chest, and was rewarded with the smallest upward tilt to his partner's mouth.

------

He knew better than to rush things, he really did, but he wanted more. Watari waited anyway, which spoke leagues for the usually active man. He understood that while his last relationship might have been forty years ago, his had not ended on bad terms.

Per say; death wasn't a positive end to a relationship, but there had been no bad blood. Tatsumi and Tsuzuki's partnership had fallen apart in a devastating way, making the man pull back. And though Tatsumi acted fine, Watari knew he hurt more than he let on.

He glanced at the clock, squinted. Damnit, he needed to buy contacts, but he never had time to sit there and put the things in. And they felt weird. It was blurry, but he could see that it was a bit after ten (or perhaps just turning ten… the hands were indistinct,) and they'd managed to kill a few hours under the combination of talking, some television, and kissing.

"I should probably leave for the night, Yutaka," Tatsumi muttered, but didn't move. It was only too clear the man didn't entirely want to go. Still, he reached for his glasses on the table next to them.

They stood, but Watari reached out, pulling the other man towards him. The inch and a half difference in their heights never seemed as large as it did when he was this close to the other man. He tilted his head up, capturing the other's lips briefly, and murmured, "Stay the night." He saw the other man frown slightly, not in annoyance, but certainly not in agreement either, so he added, "Please, Seii."

Not moving away, Tatsumi neither moved closer. The hesitation showed in his eyes, if not in the arms that slowly wrapped around Watari's slim waist. "Tonight," he murmured. "It's late--"

"--and we have work tomorrow and a million other reasons," Watari finished easily. "I don't care. Stay." He leaned forward, lips tracing along Tatsumi's jaw line, in the barest ghost of a touch. Along his neck…. He was playing with fire, igniting feelings he knew the secretary had buried for, roughly, half a century.

Tatsumi pulled him closer, pressing them together, and closed his eyes as long fingers brushed back his errant brown strands, those skillful lips still at work. "Yutaka," he muttered, his voice a warning that went unheeded. And it hardly mattered, when warm breath whispered over his ear in such a way.

Strong fingers directed Watari's chin, bringing his lips back to Tatsumi's, and he responded in kind before he separated. Those blue eyes, seen as steely and hard to so many, but he had seen them soften with amusement, and caring; now they were trained on him, watching Watari. The scientist wrapped slender fingers around the Tatsumi's wrist, and pulled him gently forward, towards the hallways of the apartment.

Tatsumi found he couldn't resist, didn't even want to, wrapped up in and swept away by Watari and everything that meant. Even as they walked, Watari pulled him close again, lips pressing into his while his hands had become far too interested in the tie. Which went flying off somewhere in a matter of seconds, and Tatsumi really didn't miss it.

One arm gripped around Watari's middle, the other thrown out to keep their balance once the scientist had decided it had not only been a good idea to lead Tatsumi back to the bedroom, but to kiss him while doing so, thereby walking backwards. Beginning with an ineptitude where balance was concerned, adding closed eyes and multi-tasking (the buttons of his dress shirt hardly stood a chance, really,) and you received an off kilter Shinigami.

Tatsumi caught the man before he fell, or even stumbled, and was promptly dragged back into the bedroom.

Using an advantage of height and muscles, Tatsumi fell onto his back against the comforters, the crisp linen soft and cool against his heated skin. And more so when the shirt was finally off him. He responded by pulling Watari's shirt over his head, and tossing it off towards the other side of the room.

A muffled hoot, sounded disgruntled was heard, and Tatsumi caught sight of 003 climbing out from under the black cloth.

"Yutaka?"

Watari looked up from his intense interest in Tatsumi's collarbone, amber eyes darkened and intense, hair flyaway, across his face. "Mm?"

Flicking away the errant strands before burying his hands in the golden waves, he murmured, "Get rid of your voyeur before she gets thrown out a window." She could fly so the threat was a passive one, but he wasn't exactly prepared to do this with a critiquing miniature owl in the room.

"Voyeur?" Apparently having not noticed the bird until now, Watari offered only a tilted smile. "Uh, sorry. 003, out." He pointed to the door, and received an angry huff in reply (if also compliance.) He sighed, looking down at the man under him. "I'm gonna hear it from her tomorrow." Teeth against his neck caused a small noise of outrage. "Hey, Seii--!" Another nip. "Got it, I'll shut up."

There were advantages to being in a relationship with someone on just this side of genius. Tatsumi brushed his lips against the other's, and was once more encompassed by Watari's enthusiasm. He could feel long fingers graze over the button of his dress pants, then slipping inside, causing a sharp intake of breath.

The chuckle that responded was irritating, because Watari was entirely too amused by this whole ordeal. And if he was able to chuckle, Tatsumi was clearly being negligent.

He had never been worried about things like complicating the relationship, or work, or whatever else he had been projecting to Watari. Tatsumi knew now that he had never fooled him, and Watari had simply taken matters into his own hands. Over fifty years of celibacy was a damned long time, it didn't matter who you were. Being a Shinigami and therefore borderline immortal certainly made the time seem like shorter, but none the less….

And then conscious thought went bye-bye at whatever it was Watari's fingers were doing, and Tatsumi groaned slightly, running his hands along the scientist's chest, discovering hot spots, and more often, sensitive spots, that made the man jump rather than respond. He'd have to remember those; the image really was amusing.

Tatsumi's dress pants were brusquely shoved down to the corner of the bed, which was followed by Watari's corduroys flying off into some random corner of the room. They lay in bed together, exploring, endlessly fascinated, as are all new lovers, by textures and shapes and angles and degrees of resiliency.

For once, Seiichiro Tatsumi found someone in whom he thought to trust. So he trusted, wholeheartedly, and was not let down.

The night passed, though for them it was as though time sped up far too quickly, and neither of them seemed to sleep much on that evening.

------

Tatsumi was on time the next morning, as he always was. If he was somewhat quieter, perhaps, it was of no great notice to anyone. He had enough energy to threaten Tsuzuki about being late before heading into his office to cope with budget reports which might have been of more use as kindling. Or maybe Tatsumi was just a _little_ annoyed by the fact that the Accounting Department seemed to find the fault with him, personally, that the Summons Department was a financial black hole.

The only question that remained was where the resident mad scientist was. While he may have been the most absent minded person one could ever hope to meet, he was hardly late to work. One, because unless you were Tsuzuki, it was nearly impossible to be late when you can teleport, and two, because he started his day by barging into Tatsumi's office, shouting about something, and he very rarely skipped opportunities to do that.

In truth, the man was running somewhat late. He needed his certain hours of sleep. He may have stayed up to ungodly hours before, but he usually had caffeine tablets or something equally effective on hand the next morning. Unfortunately for poor Watari, caffeine tabs were sorely lacking, and Tatsumi had been too kind (or too smart,) to forcibly wake the man and had instead set his alarm.

Tatsumi woke up, as ever, at six… or rather he usually woke up at five thirty or so and enjoyed a few quiet minutes in bed with his thoughts. He had been tired, slept that half an hour in, and risen from the bed at his normal six. Watari had surmised this much from the short letter that had been left on the kitchen table.

He could guess the rest from that. Tatsumi was a morning person. Watari was a middle of the night, near constant insomniac person. So, he could vaguely remember Tatsumi attempting to wake him up and his muttering death threats if it was before seven thirty. But not much more.

Watari raced down the halls of his apartment, his hands frantically pulling back the hair that he hadn't had time to tame (giving whole new definition to the term bed head.) His braiding skills, which were fairly proficient as far as males' skills in that area were concerned, didn't exactly hold up when he was attempting to walk at the same time. Not having a mirror or a hairbrush on hand also didn't help the situation that much.

Muttering something unintelligible around the key ring in his mouth (he really didn't feel like forgetting them again…) Watari glanced around his apartment for his small feathered companion. Done with his hair, he secured it with one of the various ribbons he owned, and dropped his keys into his hand. "003, time to go, now!"

No response.

Watari sighed. Females, it seemed, were temperamental. It didn't matter the species. He knew she was in the house and not sleeping, because she'd been poking around the kitchen the last he'd seen her. And the lack of response meant she wasn't happy. Trudging back into the kitchen, he found her there, sitting on the table, her entire tiny body positively radiating reproach.

This, of course, only happened when he was late. He'd probably laugh about this later. If he wasn't half asleep and in a very large hurry he'd be laughing about it now, he was sure. "003, didn't you hear me?" Of course she had. Stupid question. Though depending on whom you asked, the entire idea of speaking to a miniature owl could have been seen as stupid. "We have to go. I'm late."

Hoot. Glare. She turned away from him.

Great. She wasn't explaining why she was mad, of course. He had to remember. Which he was bad at, at any given time before eleven. Watari quickly thought over his memories of last night (not an unpleasant experience by any means,) before he remembered kicking her out. "Oh." That explained more than it didn't. "I apologize for kicking you out, 003, but that was rather private."

She twitched, but still did not face him.

Watari stared down at his watch, and winced. Forty past eight, with the seconds hand twitching perilously on. And there would be no wheedling her into a better mood because he knew that this bird would enjoy torturing him for a while. "All right, fine," Watari remarked, and started towards the door. "I can see I'm not going to change your mind and I'm late so I'll have to run. I'll see you after work, and I might be a little bit late, so..." He shrugged, and headed towards the door. Throwing on an old pair of sneakers, he started to close the door when a small feathered puffball sneaked through and landed on his shoulder.

Apparently not too mad. Or else just couldn't stand being locked up. Either way, she earned a few pets in return for joining him, and Watari closed up the flat before heading in to work.

------

It did not bode well that Watari's lab had been silent for so long, Tsuzuki thought. He knew his friend, knew that quiet like this was the silence before a storm. Storm meaning some strange experimenting that everyone would be better off without. Or Watari might get bored and bring office technology to life. Such was not unknown for him, and he still couldn't look at a fax machine quite the same way.

Others said Watari just hadn't come in yet, but, oh! Tsuzuki was convinced. No, this was plotting, plain and simple. Or he thought so until the scientist burst through the office, riffling through his inbox hurriedly and half explaining his lateness to the chief-- something having to do with oversleeping, an alarm clock, and nitroglycerin, though the latter could have been the brainstorming of some experiment-- and heading into Tatsumi's office with obvious carelessness.

Anyone else who entered when Tatsumi was dealing with the budgets that tested his temper to its furthest point would have been threatened on sight. Or made to cry (if you were, say, Tsuzuki.) It wasn't personal, so much that Tatsumi was in a bad mood and someone was there.

From what the purple eyed Shinigami could see before the door closed, Tatsumi looked up from the papers in front of him and…smiled? Tatsumi didn't smile unless he was earning money or cutting Tsuzuki's pay. The door was half closed by the scientist, but their voices could still be heard, slightly muffled.

"That was forty-five minutes late, right? I believe you bested Tsuzuki-san's record."

"You couldn't wake me up?" Watari didn't sound really annoyed so much as amusedly exasperated.

"When I tried I was promptly threatened with various chemicals I can't pronounce. I still don't know how you could. Nice turtleneck by the way."

"Oh, shut up."

Tsuzuki watched as what appeared to be Watari's foot kicked the door closed the rest of the way, and no further sound was heard.

"Are you working at all?"

Except for his annoyed partner's voice. "Um, kinda."

Hisoka sat down at his desk, pulling his share of the work in front of him and giving his partner an impressive glare. Which seemed to earn him no reaction from the older man except for a guilty grin and turning back to his papers. He did not actually do the papers, settling for drawing tiny doodles along the margins.

It really didn't help him finish up his logistics paperwork, but it passed the time. And besides how could Hisoka be mad when he looked at the happy little scribbles?

He glanced up as Watari left a few minutes later, calling over his shoulder as he closed the door.

"You're not staying locked up for lunch, to hell with the Accounting Department." Watari closed the door firmly behind him over his lover's protests and smiled. It boded ill if the poor secretary tried to argue about having to work. Very ill.

Catching sight of Tsuzuki and Hisoka when they glanced up, he tipped them a wink, and, humming, strolled away towards his laboratory. Throughout that day, no explosions were heard; inanimate objects remained such and strange things were not dropped into unwatched cups.

This raised a few eyebrows (usually, there was at least a rabid stapler with an attitude to lighten the mood…or to fear,) if no complaints. After all, a day where you didn't have to precisely time how long it would take the resident mechanical engineer to drug the food was a good day.

No, that day, Watari sorted through his notes, filed reports, all the while with a smile on his face.

* * *

Author's Notes; I really don't liked the ending; c'est crappy. However, thank whatever God you choose that my computer has stopped spazzing for me to write this. Zomfg, yay! I was dying, 'cause I really wanted to finish this, and I was having so many issues with the damn computer. I apologize to those who were waiting. I'm working on the Epilogue (next and last chapter -sob-) tomorrow. Or I should be (Kitsune might be giving me stuff to read…she's my beta.)

Yeah, I told you it wasn't gonna be graphic love scene. I wish they had the rating OT (Older Teen,) but it's either M or T. So, -sigh- yeah. I didn't want to rate too low, so safe rather than sorry thing. I complain about that a lot, so just ignore me. To my reviewers, I am sorry for the wait, and I hope chapter was worth waiting for (or at least not horrendous.) I'm a bad judge, I think all my stuff's horrible, which makes Kitsune yell at me. -.-;;

Samuraiduck27- Glad you liked! I was worried the "Why the hell did you stop?" would be cliché so I'm really happy it was well met. Yes, Tsuzuki's love of sweets is Tatsumi's downfall. See, the chain goes Tsuzuki Wakaba Saya and Yuma Everybody else. Apologies for not being able to update soon, but I hope this is long enough to make up for it (about nine pages, I believe….)

Eternalsailorsolarwind- Here's another update for your inbox. Tsuzuki was perfect? Yay! He's so hard to nail; I think he's probably the most complex character in the series. Tatsumi is tricky, too. Yes, I figured it would be most logical (ha ha, yeah right, Tatsumi was just looking for an excuse to kiss him.) His feelings are mostly sorted out. The discussion with Hisoka helps a lot, and then this chapter is sort of the dénouement of everything.

PuppetofDreams- Awesome? -blushes like a schoolgirl/Hisoka- Thank you! Stuff like that makes me sit here with the biggest smile on my face, I swear. Lol, yes Tatsumi's scary. He makes me shake in my proverbial boots (I don't own a pair of real boots, so, Sketchers, maybe?) -shifty eyes- Where did Tatsumi learn to kiss you ask? -shoves Tsuzuki in a closet- -shoves Hisoka in with him- Nowhere! Uhm, next question? -grin- I'm glad you liked so much.

Ed-Girl- Thanks so much. Nope, not ended yet. The Epilogue has the ending stuff. I've actually had the last sentence written for a long time. Is it just me, or do other people do that?

Kai Sohma- Is your name a Fruits Basket reference? Awesome manga. Anywhoo, yesh, Tatari is an amazing ship, but since it's largely fan created it's hard to find stuff for it. Uhm, not lemon. More like lime or shounen-ai. I have a lot of admiration for people who can write subtle and beautiful lemon; I can't.

StickmanRVR- Thank you. - Yes, fluff is great. It's soft and cuddly, and doesn't try to kill you like a certain unhappy secretary.

PirateChickxArrg- I LOVE THIS REVIEW. -;; I'm a weirdo, sorry. But thank you so much.

Jazi- I think you have the easiest name to type out of everyone who's reviewed. Lol. I'm glad you're floored, because I really loved writing this. Tsuzuki tries to play matchmaker; he's so funny, 'cause everyone who reads/watches Yami no Matsuei wants to hit him and scream, "Kiss Hisoka, goddamnit!" Or maybe that's just me. Thank you, I'm so glad I made it onto your favorites.

Until the next update, I remain humbly yours,

--Phoenix


	6. Epilogue

Title; The Rose

Rating; M (though this chapter is G and fluffy! xP)

Disclaimer; Yeah, I do not own it. Happy? Wanna rub it in my face some more?

Author's Notes; The final part of The Rose (although I'm probably going to go back and edit the living heck out of it at a later date.) I feel happy and sad about that. I'm weird, I know. The epilogue here will be largely fluff, the dénouement of everything that's been going on in the last couple chapters. Beware the extreme fluffiness! It might make you want to go hug a puppy…or something. So, anyway, this ought to be shorter than the others (I know the prologue was long,) but most of the "dénouement" happened in the last chapter, so, yeah. And it's not gonna be first person. Sorry, but it is Watari point of view (that crazy scientist!)

* * *

And what it all boils down to  
Is that no one's really got it figured out just yet  
I've got one hand in my pocket  
And the other one is playing the piano  
What it all comes down to my friends  
Is that everything's just fine fine fine

-Alanis Morrisette, "_Hand In My Pocket"_

There were ways Watari showed how he cared for Tatsumi. A lot of little ways that exposed him. He stopped the secretary from working himself to death, he brought the man his deficit reports, he stole the very same deficit reports if Tatsumi had any notions of working past nine o' clock when he didn't have to, and he refrained from drugging the coffee pot.

At least, he waited until after eight-fifteen to drug the coffee pot because that was when Tatsumi took his second mug of coffee and then, well, then all bets were off.

Watari had never told Tatsumi how he had adapted his schedule for the man. One, because Tatsumi would just ask him why he couldn't stop spiking the coffee in general, and two, he hadn't really trusted Tsuzuki not to eavesdrop after that last incident, and his friend was one of the perfect people to test on. He'd eat anything.

The only thing that tempted Watari to tell Tatsumi was that smile. It was a small smile, after all, he rarely grinned, but it was easy for Watari to make all sorts of fool of himself for just one of those smiles.

He really needed to stop daydreaming. Watari reached up to the crown of his golden hair and pulled down the eye goggles that rested there. Experiments were fun, but just because you were a Shinigami was no reason to be stupid. With a sigh, the scientist tweaked the Bunsen burner slightly, scribbled down the time, and grabbed his latest concoction.

Here's to hoping for minimal property damage.

Adding the newest of his "potions" together, Watari stepped back only slightly and waited for a reaction. Five seconds passed…then ten…. It began to steam softly (not even smoke,) and offered nothing more promising.

Watari raised the eye gear back up to the top of his head, and glanced up at 003, who had, wisely, flown up to the top of one of the cabinets near a window. "Well," he finally said. "That was anti-climactic." This earned him a peep in return. "At the very least, 003, I was hoping for something to happen. Anything. I certainly wouldn't have been unhappy if the sex-change potion finally worked. I want to test it on Terazuma." There was actually reasoning behind using Terazuma; if he used either Tsuzuki or Bon the kid would kill him, he was _not_ turning his lover into a girl, and he was curious to know if Kagankokushungei, Terazuma's Shikigami, would react badly if its host became female.

A knock on the door interrupted his musings, and Watari glanced at the clock. It was only eight thirty, would they have a new case for him this early? Dare to dream; even mechanical engineers-wannabe chemists got bored occasionally. "It's open," he called over. "C'mon in."

Wearing his usual pressed suit and placid expression, Tatsumi let himself into his lover's lab, and glanced about with a wary eye. Apparently deciding that there was nothing in here that was dangerous to his health, he returned his gaze to the man before him. "Watari," he greeted. "I wished to ask you about something."

Watari relaxed on his lab stool with a smirk. "Shoot, Seii." Tatsumi might prefer formalities, but he didn't, and while he would respect that when others were around, the lab was empty except for them, 003, and the penguin.

Removing his glasses, Tatsumi folded them up and tucked them into his suit's chest pocket, before shrugging out of the jacket and draping it on a chair. If he caught Watari's raised eyebrows and growing look of surprise he ignored it. Unbuttoning his cuffs, he rolled up the sleeves, revealing his forearms, and Watari realized exactly why Tatsumi was coming into his laboratory to take off his jacket.

About half of his forearm was a rich shade of cerulean blue. "Uhm…" Watari trailed off, unsure of exactly how one was supposed to react to the fact that a co-worker was nearly ready to double for a smurf.

Tatsumi gave him a dangerous look, and responded with only, "And it's freezing cold," before adding, "I'll ask, what did you put in the coffee?"

"Uhm, well, Seiichiro," Watari said, standing and moving even as Tatsumi had taken his first few threatening steps towards the other man. "Sacrifices in the name of science and all that. Uhm, now, by cold do you mean--?"

"I mean it's cold, and it's spreading very quickly, and if I turn entirely blue, Yutaka, I will murder you." Tatsumi made dive for his lover around the edge of the lab table.

Watari wisely chose to run, jumping the other edge and making a break for the door even as he called over his shoulder, "Already dead!"

------

Hisoka glanced up as a small crash was heard. Through the door of the break room, he could see….

The boy blinked. Tatsumi was chasing Watari, who was shouting something about already being dead, and being able to fix it (whatever "it" was.)

"Well, on the bright side, blue is a really good color for you," Watari called over his shoulder, grinning. It was unsure whether the man was attempting to placate Tatsumi or egg him on.

There was another small crash and they had taken off (presumably to some other wing of the Summons Bureau.) In any case, Hisoka decided either one of two things; something was wrong with the coffee, or he had already had enough.

If you were seeing a secretary turning blue and chasing a scientist, one had to consider the fact that they were having a _little_ too much black coffee.

------

Things weren't perfect, he had mused to himself, after the entire ordeal had been straightened out (which had involved an antidote for at least two other members of staff and heading back to the drawing board.) They weren't perfect, but no one achieved perfect no matter who they were. They were happy, though, and that counted for a lot.

Tatsumi still thought of Tsuzuki, and that was okay. Watari still acted how he did, so strangely, out of desperation to keep the secretary close. As he became more comfortable, the lab explosions didn't happen nearly as often. And all things considered, it had been worth the times when they had missed each other to finally arrive at this point.

Maybe not worth some thirty-odd years of being oblivious, but what they had now made up for a lot of it. It was, after all, worth it to see the Watari that didn't entirely hide behind gay smiles and random bouts of insanity to keep his co-worker's moods lightened, or the Tatsumi who glared and snapped, and generally scared people.

Having any relationship as a Shingami was difficult, between guilt, insanity, and the constant threat of losing one's own life (or whatever facsimile of life it was,) but it was worth it.

* * *

Author's Notes; Yesh, just a quick little fluffy ending. xP I might just go beat myself over the head from the fluffiness of it all! Arg! Eh, I'll write Tatsumi/Watari angst next, because it will make me feel better and more evil. ZOMG, The Rose finally ended. Took me long enough. Bad Phoenix. I really do need to beat myself over the head once or twice. Basically, this was a lot shorter 'cause it was the epilogue. It wasn't supposed to be a whole other chapter. If it was, I promise, I would've written my usual nine-ish pages or whatever it is I write. Out of curiousity, did anyone catch the whole symbolic thing with Tatsumi being "cold"? Maybe it was just me being stupid. xD I hope this lives up to the rest of the story, and I hope I'll have more people reading some of my new stuff as it comes out. THANK YOU. I really can't get that across enough, especially to people who took the time to review. -

Eternalsailorsolarwind- What happened to this story? I happened to it! Actually, just so much stuff happened, and I started yelling at myself to finish, 'cause I was having a hard time with it. I'm sorry about the wait there. Lol, did Tatsumi come off as maidenly? Basically, it's sort of Tatsumi being Tatsumi… sex would be just another acknowledgement of a relationship which he just lives to question the hell out of. And Watari doesn't question anything. At least, he doesn't most of the time. xDD Thank you so much, and I hope the epilogue was cute enough for ya.

PuppetofDreams- Kawaii? Good! Kitsune replied with something along the lines of "OMFG porn!" and started making references to Watari being pregnant. ….That was an interesting math class. Yep, 003 got thrown out on her feathery little butt. Tatsumi's not exactly an exhibitionist. Um, to answer your question, I always like Tatsumi as seme. Since Watari has girly hair, I think he's uke (not insulting him; I love his hair!) But I'm sure they switch around and stuff.


End file.
